Stories Of Duke Of Starling
by saturnqueen1
Summary: Revenge is all he lives for . . . until he meets one extraordinary woman Oliver Dearden will not rest until he ruins greedy and brutal Malcolm Merlyn. Having purchased all of the Marquis's outstanding notes, Oliver now has the man right where he wants him. Lady Felicity is Malcolm only daughters. What happens when Oliver & Felicity meet ...
1. Prologue

**A/N: Obviously an AU fic. Don't own anything. Just the pics of Arrow cast on twitter on tumblr. Everything else belongs to Greg Berlanti, Andrew Kreisberg, Marc Guggenheim, Berlanti Productions, DC Comics, Warner Brothers, the CW. Work inspired by the historical romance genre i read for the smut.**

**Summary:**

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><p><strong>Revenge is all he lives for <strong>. . . **until he meets one extraordinary woman**

Oliver Dearden learned to despise the nobility at a very early age. The illegitimate son of a nobleman, Oliver spent his childhood in a workhouse. Always hungry & without a warm place to sleep, Oliver became even more bitter at the death of his mother Moira. Leaving the workhouse behind he survives on his wits alone and becomes a wealthy man in his own right. His only desire to finally be able to have his revenge on the man who was responsible for the dreadful conditions at the workhouse. His secret activities at night as the Green Arrow, a mysterious highwayman who steals from the rich and gives to the workhouses, gives him some semblance of satisfaction and peace.

But Oliver will not rest until he ruins the greedy and brutal Marquis of Merlyn. Having purchased all of the Marquis's outstanding notes, Oliver now has the man right where he wants him, in his debt and scared to death of being financially and socially ruined. Lady Felicity is the marquis's only child and continually punished for her kind heart in regards to the poor and less fortunate than herself. When Oliver and Felicity meet, he is immediately taken with her kind heart and she in turn is struck by the pain she knows he must have endured all his life. A twist of fate, however, reveals Oliver's father's identity, and gives him a choice which could change his life as well as Felicity's forever. And then, what of the Green Arrow?

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><p><strong>Prologue<strong>

_Leicester, England 1825_

„Father, please. I don't wanna go in there."

The little girl tried unsuccessfuly to free herself from her father's iron-clad grasp. Scared and without the possibility to escape, she glanced upon the large ghastly red brick building, her eyes focusing on the the mouldy sign „The House of Eternal Hope" announcing their terryifing destination.

„Your disgraceful behavior is precisely the reason, why you're accompanying me to this place." Malcolm Merlyn, the Marquis of Ripon, glared down at his eight-year-old daughter, determined that once they conclude their tour of the deteriorating workhouse, his daughter will forever abandon this prepostorous idea to help the savages.

„Come," he yelled. „It is time that you saw with your own eyes that this vermin is beyond saving. Only then will you save your pity for more deserving."

Ignoring her protest & sobs, he dragged her along with determination until they finally reached their destination. Forcefully he knocked on a heavy wooden door.

The door openen and the first thing that greeted them was a horrific stench surrounding an old man covered in grease greeted them, his sunken eyes opening wide as he recognized the marquis.

"Mr. Blood wasn't expecting you, my lord. I'll tell him you are here".

"No need. The Duke of Starling and I aren't scheduled to meet with Mr. Blood until Friday. Today i am just showing my daughter around."

The old man was taken aback. „But, sir."

„That will be all. You can return back to your duties."

„Yes, sir."

Merlyn turned back to face his daughter. „Felicity, I have decided to spare you the horrors of the dead and diseased in the hopes that the things you will see right here will be enough to make you see the reality of the world. However, if need be, we'll visit every room of this workhouse in order to stop the foolish need to save the unsalvagable."

Felicity's little fists knotted in her gown. Her said little voice whispered „Please, Father, I…"

„Felicity what was your impression of the man who greeted us?"

„That he needed a bath, Father. Maybe some new clothes."

„Is that all?"

„I was wondering if there is a way to give him those things."

"We're already giving him far too much," Merlyn growled, "and it's time you realized that." Searching the hallway, he gestured toward the far corner. "Look over there."

Felicity gazed fell upon two sickly women on their knees, scrubbing the floor and lamenting the hardship of their life before coming to the workshouse.

„Filthy harlots," the marquis complained. „Stupid vermin who breeds disease and immorality. They were given a place to live, food to eat, and just look at them, Felicity. Take a good look. They do nothing but waste what we give them and then expect more. And for what?"

Silently, Felicity couldnt take her eyes off the two women. „They are sick, Father," she finally whispered, her face filled with sadness. "See the smaller one? She can barely breathe. She should be in bed."

Merlyn's jaw clenched so tightly he felt it might snap. „Whatever they have my sweet Felicity, they brought upon themselves and are now spreading onto others."

„Do you know them , Father?" Felicity's voice was almost a whisper.

„Certainly not!" Merlyn growled. "Where would i even meet people like them?"

„Then how do you know they brought the sickness upon themselves?"

Her Father's only response was a disaproving frown.

„She needs medicine. And rest. With a bath and proper gown and she would look very lovely."

Rage pumped through Merlyns blood.

„Your mother once spoke as you do," he muttered out through gritted teeth. „Had I permitted it, she would have wasted away my fortune helping vermin such as these." He glared down at Felicity, fire blazing in his eyes. „I made her see the wrong in her way and finally we came to an agreement where your mother saw i am right. Do I make myself clear, Felicity?"

„Yes, Father." Felicity's lips trembled. Lowering her lashes, she focused her frightened gaze on her shoes.

Merlyn stifled a curse. He had brought her here for a purpose, and he intended to make certain she learned her lesson.

„I might have chosen a wrong approch, showing you things beyond your comprehension," he thought out loud. „After all, you are only a child."

He grabed Felicity's hand and draged her down the hall, until they reached a wooden door. He opened it and turned Felicity's attention towards the garden. „Take a look".

Seven ragged children were cupping their hands beneath the spout of the water pump, trying to satisfy their durst.

Felicity opened her mouth to say how dirty the children looked, how torn their clothing was but thought it was better to keep quiet. As she was trying to find an answer her father would approve of a little girl of about the same age as her, glanced up and her gaze locked with Felicity's.

The pain reflected in the girl's eyes was more then Felicity could bear and she looked away.

„Disgusted, are you?" the marquis asked, satisfied with Felicity's reaction. „You have every reason to be. Rather than tend the garden and pump the water as they have been assigned, these unwanted bastards are prancing about, taking in the sun. They should be beaten until there is nothing left but fear that compels them to work. And, should that prove unsuccessful, they should be thrown into the streets to starve."

Staring at his daughter, Merlyn demanded, „Now do you see, Felicity?"

„Yes, Father. Now I see."

„Good. Then, we can take our leave. This place sickens me."

Guiding her back through the hallway, the marquis tripped over an object in his path. Mumbling a curse, he kicked it aside.

„It's a doll, Father!" Felicity exclaimed, stoping to pick up the toy. Wiping dirt from its cheek, she held it out in delight. „Why, she looks just like Isobel, the doll Mama gave me for Christmas!"

„Are you mad? Don't touch that … thing!" Merlyn ordered. "Lord knows what disease it carries!" He threw the doll out of Felicity's hand and sent it flying across the floor,.

„No, Father! Don't!" Felicity begged. „She's too beautiful to be sick!"

„She is mine!" a trembling voice sounded out from the back. In a flash, the little girl ran to the doll, snatching her from the floor. Terrified, she stared at the trangers, shaking as she yelled. „ You can't have her!"

„We didnt want her anyway, you hidious, shameless creature!" Merlyn yelled. He drew back his hand, as he planed to strike the little girl. „Do you see, Felicity? This is what I have been trying to show you. These people are animals; despicable parasites."

„I will. Oh, Father, please don't hit her," Felicity pleaded. „I have learned all you wanted me to. Please. Can't we just go?"

Merlyn turned on his heel. „Very well. Come."

Felicity hesitated, her gaze returning to the little girl who shook before her, clutching her doll to her chest.

It was the little girl they'd seen in the garden.

She was as lovely as her doll.

Once again, those eyes met Felicity's, wide and unblinking.

A shiver enfolded Felicity's heart as she stared into those eyes—nearly black in their color and intensity. Their depths were filled with fear and sadness and something far worse than either. Emptiness.

Acting on instinct, Felicity took a step toward her. „Felicity!"

Merlyn's loud command sounded through the hall, striking Felicity with all the force of a whip.

„Coming, Father." Instantly, she complied, helplessly running from the run-down workhouse walls and the haunting gaze of the little girl.

But it wasn't over, nor would it ever be. For the image of that child and her doll were forever imprinted in Felicity's mind & her heart.

_Why can't Father see? her_ inner voice cried out._ They'd both be so very lovely._

_All they need is a bath and a change of clothes._


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

_Northamptonshire, England, October 1837_

Robert Queen, the duke of Starling was dying.

Dragging shallow breaths into his lungs, the sixth and final Duke of Starling cursed the fates and himself for not foreseeing how close his end was. His legacy lay in shreds, like pieces of immortality he could no longer preserve. Starling itself, the survival of his title, both would be beyond his protection, lost to the hands of strangers.

He needed time.

He had none.

Moistening his lips, the duke reached for the bell beside his bed, summoning his valet he'd just dismissed seconds before.

„You rang, Your Grace?"

„Pen … paper … „

„Certainly, my Lord." Fryers provided both.

With a shaking hand, the duke scrawled a name and a few words on the paper, barely managing to fold the paper in two. Completely exhausted, he fell back against the pillows. „To my solicitor," he whispered. „I've made plans. He'll know what to do."

„I understand, Your Grace."

„As soon as I'm gone."

„At once, Sir. Will there be anything else?"

„Pray, Fryers. Pray, it's not too late."

„As you wish, sir." Dutifully, Fryers slipped the note into his pocket and moved away.

The dying man stared after him, drifting into a world where the past flowed forward, melding into a soothing haze with the future.

Then the duke of Starling closed his eyes.

XxxxxxxxxxxxxxxX

„Give me back my wallet, you filthy imp!"

Red faced and stammering, the gentleman waved his cane at a cringing boy. „I said, hand it over!" Violently, he moved his gloved hand forward.

None of the hundreds of people passing by paid the slightest attention to the ongoing confrontation. Bound for October's _Champion Stakes_, they had little time to witness a common pickpocket being confronted.

„You heard me, you vile bandit! Return my money. Instantly. Or else I shall drag you off to the local magistrate!"

„I … I…" The young boy wiped a muddy sleeve across his forehead, his eyes wide and frightened.

„Excuse me, sir. I believe there's been a mistake."

The nobleman turned around. „I beg your pardon?"

Stiff with outrage, he glowered at the stranger who towered over him.

„I said, I believe you're mistaken," the newcomer returned, his tone as hard as his features. „This boy didn't take your wallet."

„He most certainly did. I witnessed the theft myself."

The stranger shook his head. „What you witnessed was an unfortunate coincidence. The wallet fell from your trousers. This boy merely had the bad luck to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. He didn't steal anything."

„Why, how dare you. I'm positive ..." The older man stopped in mid-sentence as the stranger flourished the missing wallet in his face.

"I saw it fall to the ground and picked it up," the stranger explained. "I was about to return it when you wrongly accused this poor boy." He patted the boy's shoulder and extended his other hand. "Your wallet, sir."

„Why I was sure … that is, I saw … at least I thought I saw ..." The nobleman drew a heavy breath as he took this wallet. "Thank you for returning my property and alerting me to the facts," he explained.

„You're welcome."

„I don't believe we've been properly introduced. I'm William Wintergreen, the Earl of Warwick. And you are?" He paused expectantly.

„Dearden."

„Lord Dearden" The earl bowed politely.

The stranger didn't. „Not Lord Dearden," he corrected quickly. „Dearden. Oliver Dearden."

Wintergreen blinked. „My mistake. Dearden." Smoothing his mustache, he assessed Dearden's tall, powerful frame, the expensive cut of his clothing. „I'd like to offer you a token of my appreciation."

„Don't. Instead, offer an apology to the boy."

A sharp gasp. „Apologize? To this scoundrel?" Wintergreen glared suspiciously at the boy. „I assure you, if I wasn't his intended victim today, someone else was. He's a common pickpocket. He should be tossed into prison where he belongs. Good day, Dearden" The earl turned on his heel and strode off.

Oliver stared at him, a muscle working in his jaw. Simultaneously, his hand reached down on the retreating boy's shoulder. „Wait. What is your name, boy."

„Roy … Roy Harper ..." the boy stammered quietly and added a little bit louder: „What do you want?"

A corner of Oliver's mouth lifted as he regarded Roy „You look surprised."

The boy dropped his eyes, kicking the dirt with his toe. „Your eye is good, but your touch is heavy," Oliver instructed quietly. „You also made a fatal, error. You allowed yourself no path by which to flee."

„What?" Roy's chin shot up.

„You chose your target well, and positioned yourself perfectly. Then you ruined it with a clumsy execution and no planned means of escape."

„I… You…" The pickpocket swallowed. „You saw me take the wallet."

„Of course."

„How did you get it?"

Oliver's grin widened. „My touch is light and my execution is perfect."

„You stole it from me?"

„Under the circumstances, it seemed like the thing to do." Oliver extracted a few shillings from his pocket. "Here. Take these. Buy yourself something to eat. Then go home and practice what I've taught you. A light touch and a well-thought-out plan. The advice will serve you well."

Roy looked from the coins to Oliver and back again. Then, with an awed expression, he ran away.

Satisfied with the results of his handiwork, Oliver went on his way. Making his way through the crowd of enthusiastic race goers, his eyes focus on the pavilion where the crowd readied themselves for the first race.

Just outside the stands he spotted his mark and tracked him down.

„Merlyn. What a surprise."

The Marquis turned, his face draining of color when he saw Oliver. „Dearden. What the hell are you doing here?"

„Why wouldn't I be here? The Champion Stakes is an exciting event. Besides, I'm feeling incredibly lucky today. How about you, Merlyn? Are you feeling lucky as well?"

An angry flush spread up Merlyn's face. „Don't play with me. If you've sought me out, it's for a reason."

„Why do you assume I've sought you out? Perhaps our encounter here is no more than a coincidence."

Merlyn wiped beads of sweat from his forehead. „When you're involved, there are no coincidences." He lowered his silver-white hat his voice dropping to a whisper. „It was you who bought that bloody note, wasn't it?"

„Which note is that? Because all you have now is your title and notes on all your wealth!"

„The only one of mine you had yet to acquire, damn you. The one held by Steel Jewelers."

„You owed Mr. Steel a considerable sum. Not to mention the fact that you were three months late with your payments. Steel was on the verge of calling in the full amount." A sarcastic smile appeared on Oliver's lips. „Perhaps you should view my purchase of the note as your salvation."

„I view it by another name." Merlyn's fists clenched. „Why have you come here today, Dearden? To gloat? To remind me that you own me, body and soul?"

„Malcolm? The horses are lining up." A woman's voice reached their ears. „You mentioned that you didn't want to miss the start of the race, so I thought perhaps … „

„A moment, Donna," Merlyn replied over his shoulder. Tight-lipped, he turned back to Oliver. „My wife and daughter accompanied me today. Therefore, if you'll excuse me."

„Excellent! I'd enjoy meeting your family." Oliver squinted, ignoring the marquis's furious glare. „Is that the marchioness over there? The lovely woman with the flowered hat who's waving in our direction?"

„Dearden, Donna knows nothing about..."

Withdrawing his pocket watch, Oliver declared, „We have just enough time for an introduction." Snapping his watch shut, he strode through the crowded pavilion to the box where Merlyn's wife and daughter waited.

Left with no option, Merlyn cursed and followed him.

„Lady Merlyn" Oliver asked, inclining his head in her direction.

„Why, yes. Do I know you, sir?" The woman who stared seriously at Oliver, her fingers alternately gripping and releasing the brim of her hat, had obviously at one time been extraordinarily lovely. It was obvious in her still-smooth skin, the fragile lines of her features. But, like a small broken bird's, her beauty was faded, her eyes vacant and surrounded by lines of suffering and sadness.

Both of which had been caused by the brutality of one heartless bastard.

Oliver's guts gave a fierce twist.

„Donna, this is Oliver Dearden." The marquis was reluctantly playing his part for the introduction. „Mr. Dearden is," an uneasy cough, „a business associate of mine. Dearden, may I present my wife, Lady Merlyn."

„Delighted, Madam." Oliver bowed.

„And my daughter, Lady Felicity." Merlyn reached out to bring his daughter from behind the eclipsing wall of her mother's head-piece.

„Lady Felicity, it is a pleasure." Oliver caught a glimpse of blonde hair and readied himself, with more than a touch of curiosity, to inspect Merlyn's only child.

His inspection was limited to the golden mane that flowed gracefully down her back.

Head averted, Felicity appeared to be inspecting the grounds, completely fascinated by something or someone in the crowd, and was therefore oblivious to her father's introduction.

„Felicity!" Merlyn snapped, his fingers biting into her arm.

Like a frightened rabbit, she jerked about, her face draining of color. „I'm sorry, Father. What were you saying?"

„I was making an introduction," Merlyn spit out, indicating he was referring to Oliver's presence. „This time I suggest you listen. Carefully." Fury laced his tone, blazed fire in his eyes. „Oliver Dearden, my pensive daughter, Felicity."

„Mr. Dearden, I apologize." Turning in Oliver's direction, Felicity bowed her head, the pulse in her neck accelerating with the blow of her father's scolding.

„I should hope so," the marquis berated. „Dearden, forgive my daughter's behavior. At times she is inexcusable..."

„No apology is necessary." Oliver raised Felicity's gloved hand to his lips, revealing none of the rage that rose within him like a burning fire. „In truth, I can guess just what dilemma occupies Lady Felicity's thoughts."

Instantly, Felicity's fingers went rigid in his, her lowered gaze unconsciously darting to her father, determining the degree of his anger. „No dilemma, sir. I was merely watching. That is, I was wondering ..."

„Which horse to choose in the first race," Oliver finished for her. „The choice is a difficult one, isn't it, my lady?"

This time Felicity's head came up, her brows arched in bewildered surprise. „Why, yes, it is."

Oliver's first unblocked view of Merlyn's daughter was a dazzling revelation.

Small and fine boned like her mother, but with a vibrancy clearly lacking in the marchioness, Lady Felicity was exquisite, radiating,an example of a rare classic beauty and a priceless painting. Her hair, like a ray of sunshine, cascaded over her shoulders —all but those few tendrils that had broken free and now trailed stubbornly along her cheeks and neck. And those eyes. The most amazing contrast of colors—a kaleidoscope of soft greens and muted grays with luminous sparks of blue.

„The contenders are exceptional." Oliver held Felicity's hand a fraction longer before releasing it. „Perhaps if we compare notes we can choose the winning candidate together."

A faint, uncertain smile. „You're very gracious, Mr. Dearden."

„Yes, you are." The marchioness sounded vastly relieved. „Look, Malcolm, the horses are lining up." She urged her husband toward his seat. „Come."

Apparently convinced that no irreparable damage had been done, Merlyn gave a curt nod. „Very well."

„Mr. Dearden?" Donna turned to Oliver. „Please, won't you join us? Unless, of course, you've made other arrangements."

Seeing the immediate opposition present on Merlyn's face, Oliver made a swift decision. „No, I have no other arrangements. I'd be delighted to join you."

„Wonderful. We have an empty chair directly beside Felicity. I'll take that seat myself, so you and my husband can discuss your mutual business."

„I wouldn't hear of it," Oliver declined. „The race is a social event. Your husband and I share a wide variety of interests, all of which promise to be ongoing for quite some time. Isn't that right, Merlyn?"

„Indeed." The marquis had begun to sweat.

„Good. Then tomorrow will be soon enough for us to arrange a meeting. For now, I insist you sit right up front beside your wife. I shall take the empty chair beside Lady Felicity."

„Uh, fine. That would be fine, Dearden."

„Excellent." Oliver gestured for Merlyn and his wife to lead the way. „After you, then."

The marquis seized his wife's elbow and escorted her into the box.

„Lady Felicity?" Oliver extended his arm.

„Thank you." Felicity paused, her inquiring glance shifting from her father to Oliver, where it lingered.

„Is everything all right, my lady?" Murmuring the question for Felicity's ears alone, Oliver held her stare, elegantly tucking her arm through his.

Her smile came slowly, „Yes, Mr. Dearden. I believe it is."

„Good." Oliver guided her to her seat. „Then let us get down to the serious task of selecting the winner."

„Us?" Felicity looked startled.

„Certainly us. I did promise to assist you in this grueling task, did I not?"

„Well, yes, but I know very little about … „

„Have you attended the races before?"

„Of course, many times. But ..."

„Surely you must, on occasion, have had a feeling about the potential of a particular horse?"

„I suppose so. Still ..."

„Trust your instincts, then." Oliver gestured to where the horses and their jockeys were poised for the first race. „In your opinion who exudes an aura of success?"

Hesitantly, Felicity leaned forward to study the contenders. A moment later her eyes lit up, reluctance transforming to eagerness. „Why, Tempest is running today! She's that magnificent chestnut mare whose jockey is in green. I've seen her race several times before. She's fast as the wind and graceful and ..."

„That has little to do with whether she'll win or not, my vapid daughter," Merlyn snapped over his shoulder. "Dearden, pay no attention to Felicity's absurd thoughts. She has her head in the clouds, with no knowledge of the rules of the turf." His voice dropped to a mutter. „Rumor has it that Verdant's jockey has instructions to fall behind in this race."

„Really?" Oliver crossed one leg nonchalantly over the other. „And have I your word on that, Merlyn."

„You do."

„How reassuring." Oliver rose. „In that case I feel ready to place my wager."

„My money is on Magician," the marquis hissed.

A mocking smile. „I'm pleased to know where your money is." Oliver turned to Felicity. „Will you excuse me?"

„Of course." Felicity's nod was gracious, but the light in her eyes had gone out.

Swiftly, Oliver conducted his business, returning to his seat in time to see the horse's speed around the first stretch.

„It appears Tempest has a considerable lead," he commented.

„Yes." Felicity sat up a little straighter, staring intently at the magnificent horse who was several yards ahead of the others.

„Dammit!" Merlyn leaned forward, hands tightly gripping his knees. „Hell and damnation!" he bit out long minutes later as Tempest crossed the finish line.

„A problem, Merlyn?" Oliver asked with apparent concern.

„Just a bloody poor informant." The marquis slumped in his chair. „Sorry, Dearden."

„It's your money, Merlyn," Oliver reminded him. „Remember?" Without waiting his reply, Oliver eased back in his seat, turning toward Felicity.

What he saw made him grin.

Felicity's eyes were sparkling, her chin tilted proudly in his direction. She looked exuberant and thoroughly pleased with herself.

„As I suspected," Oliver murmured, brushing his knuckles across her flushed face. „Your instincts are quite good, my lady."

She stared at his fingers as they caressed her skin. „I'm sure it was luck."

„Perhaps. But good luck, nonetheless." He ran his thumb across her soft lower lip. „Congratulations."

Her breath broke in a tiny shiver. „I'm sorry you lost."

„Ah, but I didn't."

„Pardon me?"

„Your enthusiasm was contagious, as was your logic. I placed my bet on Tempest."

„You placed your…" Felicity shook her head in amazement. „All because of what I said?"

„A good gambler trusts his instincts. Always remember that." Oliver winked. „Now, shall I choose the next winner or shall you?"

Felicity's lips quirked. „I don't believe in pressing my luck, Mr. Dearden, good or otherwise. I believe I'll leave the rest of the day's wagers to you. I suspect you are far more proficient at this than I."

„As you wish," Oliver agreed.

The remaining races were exhilarating, as was the extraordinary sum he won, but seeing Felicity blossom like a newly opened flower filled Oliver with more satisfaction than all his winnings combined.

That, and one thing more.

The sheer triumph of watching Merlyn squirm as his losses grew more and more, plunging him deeper and deeper into debt.

The indications of the marquis's turmoil were subtle, but, having survived thirty years on wits alone, Oliver knew just what to search for. He took in each bead of sweat on the marquis's brow, each nervous quiver of his hands, each uneasy glance over his shoulder as he waited for the ax to fall, for Oliver to publicly expose him to the world.

No, you bastard, Oliver thought grimly. That would be too easy and too painless. Sweat. Die inside. Wonder if you'll survive. Just the way I did.

Beside him, Felicity shifted. Oliver turned in time to see her peering over her shoulder, searching the crowd.

„Have you lost something?" he asked, leaning toward her.

Felicity turns around in her seat whispered „No."

„I don't devour innocent women."

Those amazing eyes widened. „Pardon me?"

„You don't have to look so terrified. I'm harmless."

Another hesitant smile lingering on her lips. „Are you? I think not, Mr. Dearden. In fact, I'm unsure why, but harmless seems the least likely word to describe you."

Oliver acknowledged her assessment with a dry chuckle. „Uninteresting then? Given the fact that, since our introduction, I've spent a large amount of time viewing your back."

She flushed. „Forgive me."

„And you've done nothing but apologize."

„ I ..."

„Don't." He covered her hand with his. „Just don't."

Felicity twisted a loose strand of hair about her finger, glancing nervously toward her father's seat. „Is it unusually warm today?" she blurted out.

„I don't know," Oliver responded quietly, making no move to pull away. „Is it?"

Yanking her hand from beneath his, Felicity swept her hair up to cool her nape. „Perhaps it's the excitement of the race."

„Perhaps." Oliver didn't bother reminding her that neither of them had been watching the horses run for the past quarter hour. Further, although he felt her confusion, her discomfort, it was his own mixed emotions that intrigued him: compassion for the fear that clearly imprisoned this enchanting young woman, hatred for the man he was certain inspired it, and something more, an odd combination of fascination and attraction.

Following the movement of Felicity's hair, Oliver's gaze fell to her throat, exposed now, and bare but for a small strand of pearls.

„Beautiful," he murmured.

„What?" Felicity dropped her curls as if they were lead.

„Oh. I thought … I apologi …." She caught Oliver's eye and broke into an unexpected laughter.

„Your laughter is much lovelier."

„And my parents are ten feet away."

„I'm sure they already know of their treasure."

Felicity's laughter faded and Oliver had the irrational urge to tease it back, to make her glow the way she had when she'd chosen the winning horse. The vulnerability of her smile, the honesty of her laughter, were as tender as a child's, but the resignation in her eyes was old, sad, tempered only by a small spark of pride. The combination was stirring, and Oliver, whose knowledge went far deeper than Felicity imagined, found himself strangely moved by Merlyn's daughter. It was the first time he could remember feeling such empathy for a blue blood. In this case, however … Oliver's gaze drifted slowly over Felicity's delicate features, the alluring curves concealed by the modesty of her day dress. Lord alone knew what she must endure with Merlyn as her father.

The thought left him cold.

„Mr. Dearden, you're staring."

A corner of Oliver's mouth lifted. „Am I? How boorish of me. I'm usually far more subtle in my approach."

„Your approach? What is it you're approaching?"

Again, he leaned toward her. „You."

„Oh. I see." She moistened her lips, risking another quick glance at her father, sagging with relief when she saw he was occupied with the last race of the day. „Tell me, Mr. Dearden, are you always so direct?"

„Yes. Tell me, my lady, are you always so naive?"

She considered the question. „Yes."

A rumble of laughter vibrated in Oliver's chest. „How old are you, Felicity?"

If she noted the informality of his address, she gave no sign. „Twenty."

„And why is it, if I might be so bold as to ask, that no worthy gentleman has yet whisked you down the aisle?"

„I don't know, Mr. Dearden," she replied with genuine honesty. „I suppose no one has found me pleasing enough to pursue."

If her tone had not been so thoughtful, Oliver would have dismissed her comment as being intentionally coy. „You truly believe that, don't you?"

„Yes. However, in their defense, I've done little to encourage them."

„I see. And why is that?"

„ Many reasons."Another hidden glance at her father, who was now heartily congratulating himself on a huge win in the final race. „Let just say, I've been preoccupied with other matters."

Oliver noted Merlyn's glee from the corner of his eye. „Too preoccupied to seek a life of your own?"

Felicity paled at Oliver's softly spoken question. „I'm perfectly content with my life, Mr. Dearden. But I thank you for your concern."

If Oliver hated Merlyn before, the stark terror on Felicity's face multiplied his hatred even more. With visible effort, he retained his composure, settling back in his chair. „I fear we've missed quite a bit of the ..."

At that moment Merlyn stood up. „We should be taking our leave now." It was a command, not a request.

Instantly, Felicity and her mother rose.

Slowly, Oliver came to his feet. „We have winnings to collect, I believe."

„Uh, yes, we do."

Oliver turned to the Marchioness. „Your husband and I will settle our accounts and summon your carriage. Should I not see you again, thank you for your kind hospitality, my lady."

„You're quite welcome, sir."

„Lady Felicity." Oliver bowed, acutely aware of Merlyn's presence beside him. „You've been most gracious, not to mention a clever wagerer. It was a pleasure to enjoy the races with you!"

"And you, Mr. Dearden." Felicity's smile was genuine, although, once again, her curious gaze darted from Oliver to her father.

Walking off with Merlyn, Oliver waited only until they were out of earshot. „How fortunately for you the last race turning out as it did. No need to collect your winnings, though. They belong to me."

„What?" The marquis stopped dead in his tracks.

„Interest, Merlyn, remember? You owe me quite a bit."

„You miserable son of a ..."

„Careful," Oliver warned quietly, "else I might be forced to ask how a man who is one step from the gutter can afford to gift his daughter with such costly a necklace."

Sweat broke out on Merlyn's brow. „It's an inexpensive copy of ..."

„On the contrary, the pearls are very real. And very valuable. Had Lady Felicity a shred of your loathsome nature, I wouldn't hesitate to remove them from her neck and count them among my day's profits. But it so happens, she's charming, as is your wife: Therefore, consider the necklace a gift from me to you and your family. Surprised? Don't be. On occasion, even I have a heart. To those who deserve it, that is." Oliver plucked the marquis's winning ticket from his hands. „I'll take this. You go summon your coach. My solicitor will contact you tomorrow to arrange a meeting. See that you make it. Unless, of course, you want the entire world to know just how penniless you are." Biting a smile Oliver continued. „Enjoy your luxuries, Merlyn. For now."


	3. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

The sun was slowly making its ascent. The church benches were still obscured by shadows when a familiar figure emerged through the wooden door.

„Vicar, I'm here."

The announcement echoed through the silent church, summoning Quentin Lance from his quarters. He emerged, shaking his head in indulgent worry as he watched the spirited young woman who was hastening down the aisle toward him.

„So I see," he returned, scowling. „And before dawn, no less. Felicity, my dear, I doubt even the lark has sung his first note." The scolding was halfhearted, the lines about the vicar's eyes soft with warmth and tenderness. „How many times have I warned you that it is unsafe to walk the streets of the village before the day has broken?"

„Countless." Calmly, Felicity stopped before him, moving the huge basket she carried to one side and slipping her hand beneath the hem of her petticoat to reveal a six-inch blade. „But you have nothing to fear. See? I'm well protected."

„How reassuring. And precisely how many times have you used your lethal weapon to defend yourself?"

She gave him a dazzling smile. „None. I haven't had occasion to. Which only goes to show how safe the village truly is." Felicity restored the knife to its original hiding place. „In any case, I didn't come here to argue with you, my dear friend. Today is too special for that. Besides, you didn't really expect that I would shut an eye last night, did you? Not with our morning visit to the school tantalizing my thoughts. Why, I could barely stay still through yesterdays Stakes. All I could think about was the children I'm finally to meet. Which reminds me." Triumphantly, Felicity held up her basket. „Wait until you see what I've brought." Neglectful to the dust that settled on the fine layers of her dress, she sank down onto her knees, swiftly removing her treasures, one by one.

„Mrs. Raisa made a huge side of mutton last night. No one could finish it, not even Father. So I brought all that was left with me. There's enough for at least a dozen portions." Carefully, she set aside the food. „I had also been able to sneak two apple pies from the kitchen. I don't think Mrs. Raisa saw me, but even if she did, she'd never tell a soul." Felicity sat back on her heels, her eyes glowing. „Now for the best part. Look!" Joyfully, she held up a neatly folded pile of clothing: pants, shirts, dresses, and aprons of various sizes and designs.

„Where on earth did you get these?" the vicar asked in amazement, affectionately touching the clothing on top of the pile as if it was gold.

„I made them,"Felicity confided in a whisper. „Mama ordered material from town so the maids could sew new uniforms for themselves and the footmen. The materials were sent for while Father was in London on business." Felicity gave the vicar a secret smile. „Mama made sure the order was a large one."

„May God bless Donna," Lance murmured, his voice full of emotion. „And God bless you for your hard work."

„It was no work, but a blessing," Felicity replied with a mischievous grin, rising to her feet. „You know how much trouble I have in order to sleep at night. My lantern and I worked most efficiently until the sun's light arrived to offer its assistance. Just think how many children will benefit from this, Vicar." She seized his forearms. „And there's more. A delivery of wool is due at week's end, to make blankets for the horses. So I'll be able to make shawls to protect the children through the winter." Felicity's brows turn to a frown. „I haven't yet thought of a way to offer boots for them, but that is the only problem I have yet to overcome."

„I beg to differ with you, child." The vicar enfolded Felicity's fingers in his, his gentle features tense with worry. „You have a much bigger, more pressing problem to face, as does Donna."

Felicity's lips quivered. „Father."

„If he should find out ..."

„He won't."

„But if he should, child, there would be no limit to his wrath."

„I cannot allow myself to think about that." Felicity turned away, her expression set in that familiar contradictory blend of resigned determination. „Mother and I both know the risk we're taking. But it's something we must do, each to the extent that we're able."

„At all costs?"

„Yes."

„Snowdrop." Using the familiar term of endearment he'd given Felicity as a child, Lance placed his hands on her shoulders. „Your mother has endured one and twenty years of pain and fear. I remember her as she was—a radiant, vivacious young girl. But she's weak now. Her strength is gone. I fear she's withstood all she can."

„Don't you think I know that?" Felicity replied with quiet resolution. „Should Father learn what we've … I've been doing, I will deny that Mama had any knowledge of my actions. The responsibility and the consequences will be mine to bear."

„Lord alone knows what Malcolm will do."

„All he can do is beat me. He can do nothing to my spirit."

„I'll do everything I possibly can to prevent ..."

„No. You will do nothing." Felicity turned to face her friend. „He's my father. By law, you have no right to interfere with his treatment or his punishment of me. Please, don't endanger yourself or your role in the parish. The village needs you too badly." Briefly, Felicity lay her hand on the vicar's jaw. Then, she stooped to repack her basket. „The sun is up. The schoolroom awaits us."

With a deep sigh, he nodded. „Very well. Let's go, my stubborn snowdrop. At the very least you can see the joyful faces of the children your generosity is helping. My only prayer is that you're not gambling with your life."

A mysterious smile touched Felicity's lips.

„And what, might I ask, is so amusing?"

Felicity rubbed her fingers together, a gesture the vicar had long-ago learned indicated there was something significant on his young friend's mind. „Well?" he prompted. „I voiced concern that you risk to be discovered by your father and you find my worry humorous?"

„No, of course not. Your worry is loving and sensitive, and I'm deeply grateful for it. It has been just your choice of the word "gambling". It reminded me of something. Someone," she amended softly.

Lance blinked in surprise. „Is this someone a gentleman, by any chance?"

Felicity's lips twitched. „I think not. A gambler, a rogue and a charmer. But definitely not a gentleman." Recalling the way Oliver had restored her dignity following her father's scolding, she added, „Except those times when he chooses to be."

„I see. And where did you meet this complex stranger?"

„He joined Father for the races."

„He's a friend of your father's then?" The vicar couldn't keep the dismay from his voice. He'd hoped that someday Felicity would meet a man worthy of her, not a scoundrel similar to her father.

„No, I wouldn't say they were friends." Felicity chewed her lip thoughtfully. „According to father, they are business associates."

„You sound skeptical."

„It's silly, I suppose." Felicity shrugged. „I have no reason to doubt my father's explanation. It's just that he and Mr. Dearden seem so mismatched … in age, in his background, in his manner."

„In other words, this Mr. Dearden is young, unpretentious, and lacking in social position."

Felicity smiled at the vicar's accurate insight. „He's about thirty, I would say. Definitely untitled. My guess is, unpampered as well. While he's obviously well-to-do, he has a hard edge that leads me to believe his wealth is not inherited, but earned, probably through a keen set of wits."

„You're right. He doesn't sound like someone your father would choose to associate with. However, his lack of breeding might dim in comparison with cunning business insight."

„Perhaps." Felicity hesitated, her brows drawn together in a frown. „There's something more, though … something odd. Father acts so skittish around Oliver Dearden, uncharacteristically off balance and accommodating. I have the strangest feeling that Dearden has some kind of hold over him. It's nothing I can prove … just an instinct." Another faint smile. „According to Mr. Dearden I should trust my instincts and not give too much attention to the people who want to deter me."

„Ah, a good man." The vicar's relief was evident. „He was giving you even spiritual advice."

„No, actually he was giving me gambling advice. I was placing my wager in the first race."

„Oh. It sounds to me as if the excitement over our forthcoming visit to the school was not alone in distracting you from yesterday's races."

„And what does that mean?"

„This Mr. Dearden appears to have made a strong impression on you."

„Yes, he did. Not because of his gambling, if that's what's concerning you," Felicity assured him with a twinkle. „But because he's such an interesting embodiment of contradictions—composed and sure of himself, yet intuitive and compassionate. You must admit that is a rare combination, least of all in a gambler."

The vicar penetrating eyes searched Felicity's facial expression. „How did you learn so much about the man in one meeting?"

„If you watched the way he assessed the horses, realizing his goals time after time without batting an eyelash and expecting anything short of total victory, you'd understand what I mean by the composure."

„And the insight? The compassion?"

An uncomfortable pause. Then Felicity replied: „Father scolded me in public. Mr. Dearden must have sensed my embarrassment. He very intentionally extricated me from what might have been an ugly episode."

„You're right. That is both insightful and kind." Lance did not want to to rehash the point, knowing how painful Felicity found her father's bouts of cruelty. Besides, in light of Felicity's revelation, another, far more interesting, avenue required his attention, and he intended to pursue it, as subtly as possible. Concentrating on the task of adjusting his sleeves, he asked, „What does this Oliver Dearden look like?"

Felicity twisted a lock of hair about her finger, visualizing the man who'd preoccupied her thoughts since yesterday's races. „He's tall with light brown hair, he gives off this aura of invulnerability, almost as if he wants to warn you that he'll extend himself just so far and no one had better trespass beyond that point. His features are hard, severe, even a trifle forbidding. I sense he's struggled somehow, and I detect the same in his eyes, which are the darkest blue. Still, beneath that fierceness…"

„Lies the heart of a saint, no doubt," the vicar chuckled. „Is there no one you cannot find good in, Snowdrop?"

The engrossing memory of Oliver Dearden vanished, instantly eclipsed by the ugly answer to the vicar's question.

„_Felicity, have you been providing charity to those worthless bastards again?"_

„_No, Father."_

„_Then why did Lord Wilson spy you in the yard of the parish church, with that bloody clergyman?"_

„_The vicar is my friend, Father. I was only …"_

„_I'd best not discover that you have disobeyed my orders, Daughter. For if I should learn you've given a single shilling of my money to street scum, your punishment will be severe. Do you understand what I'm saying, Felicity?"_

„_Yes, Father, but I ..."_

„_Perhaps you need a small taste of what I mean. Perhaps then you'll think twice before wasting your time—and my funds—on the vicar's pointless causes."_

Even now Felicity flinched, feeling the sting of her father's blows as sharply as she had the week before.

Was there anyone she couldn't find good in?

„Yes," Felicity whispered, tears clogging her throat. „God forgive me, but yes."

Lance went to her then, gathering her hands in his. "Don't, Felicity. In some men, the good is so deeply buried that one must spend a lifetime digging in order to find it. As for you, no forgiveness is necessary. For, despite this lapse of faith to which you allude, your belief prevails and your search for Malcolm's goodness continues." He kissed her forehead. „Come. Let's be off to the school. While we walk, you can tell me all about this mysterious Mr. Dearden. And I shall reward you with the latest details of the „Green Arrow" bandit."

Instantly, all else was forgotten. „Tell me," Felicity demanded, nearly bouncing with excitement. „What has the bandit done now?"

A hearty chuckle. „I thought perhaps that would capture your attention. Now, mind you, there're still only rumors."

„I know, there are always rumors. Yet, all the stories turn out to be true, and each and every one of the bandit's exploits is recounted in the Times day after day. So, tell me, Vicar, whose manor was invaded this time? Through which window did the bandit enter? What jewels did he take? Which workhouse benefited from the theft?"

Lance threw back his head and laughed. „Gather up your basket, Snowdrop. I'll fetch the pile of books I've collected for the school and we can be on our way. I shall do my best to answer all your questions while we walk."

Minutes later, Felicity and the vicar walked purposefully through the village streets.

„I'm not certain what was stolen or how the bandit gained his entry," the vicar began. „But I do know that the theft occurred the night before last."

„Somewhere between two and three after midnight.," Felicity supplied in a reverent whisper. „That's always when he strikes."

„Yes. Well, this time it was the Viscount Steelmore's estate."

„I knew it! Remember I told you about the garish ruby-and-diamond necklace the Viscount bought for his wife? According to Mama, the entire ton was buzzing over it. She said his poor wife could barely keep her head erect, so heavy were the jewels. The bandit must have heard the gossip—or perhaps he saw the piece himself. Vicar," Felicity's voice rose in baffled wonder. „Who is he? How does he know just whom and where to strike?"

„I honestly don't know. I only know that, because of your bandit, dozens of hungry children will be fed, clothed, and offered hope where none previously existed."

„Which workhouse received the money?"

„The one in Southwell."

„Oh, thank God," Felicity breathed. „That was the workhouse you planned to visit this week, the one in dire straits."

„Exactly. The poor headmaster there had contacted every parish for miles, begging for assistance. His funds were gone; there was no food. Within weeks, innocent children would have been forced into the streets, or begun starving to death."

„The headmaster himself sent you word that the bandit had been there?"

The vicar smiled. „Evidently, your brazen bandit left his green arrow right at the headmaster's desk. He came and went before dawn, silent and unseen."

„How much money did he leave them?"

„Just shy of three thousand pounds."

„An awed gasp escaped Felicity's lips. "The man is a hero."

„The man is a thief," the vicar reminded her gently.

„How can you say that? You of all people must see what he's done for ..."

„You don't need to defend him to me, Snowdrop. I bless the man each and every day. Still, facts are facts. And, in answer to your earlier question a jewel from the previous theft was left at the scene of the crime. Two identical green arrows, one present at the crime, one at the chosen workhouse." Felicity glowed. „The bandit is brilliant. Not to mention generous and crafty. And I, for one, hope the authorities never catch him. I can hardly wait to read of their stupefaction in this morning's newspaper."

„Can you contain yourself long enough to distribute your treasures?" the vicar chuckled, coming to a halt before the village school. „The children are eager to see you."

„Oh! I didn't realize we have arrived." Felicity hurried forward to peek through the window. „They appear to be absorbed in their studies," she murmured, her voice filled with disappointment. „Does that mean we must delay our visit?"

„Miss Smith, their teacher, is expecting us. I suspect she'll be more than delighted to abandon her lessons." Scowling, the vicar knocked, leaving Felicity no opportunity to question his apparent disapproval of the school mistress.

„Yes? What is it?"

Seeing the tight-lipped woman who filled the doorway with her ample presence, Felicity's questions vanished. „Oh, pardon me. It is you, Vicar. Come in." Miss Smith's frigid tone was as unappealing as her demeanor.

Stiffly, she stepped aside, gesturing for the vicar to enter. Her reproachful gaze fell on Felicity.

„Miss Smith," the vicar interjected, guiding Felicity ahead of him. „May I present Lady Felicity Merlyn."

Miss Smith's frosty stare became positively glacial. „Merlyn? Are you, perhaps related to the Marquis?"

Felicity raised her chin. „The marquis is my father."

„Look around if you wish, but I'll save you the trouble. If one of your tenants' children is missing, he isn't here."

„Pardon me?"

„I assume your father sent you. Tell him there's no need. I haven't allowed anyone from the Merlyn estate into this school since the marquis ordered me not to. Much as I dislike teaching these ruffians, I need my position. So assure your father I'll fulfill his wishes."

„Miss Smith," the vicar began.

With a gentle shake of her head, Felicity silenced her friend. She understood the significance of the school mistress's assumption … as well as her father's tactics … only too well.

„I'm not here as my father's messenger, Miss Smith," she responded, trying to keep the anger from her voice. „Were I to have my way, all the children living at Merlyn estate would be among your students. Unfortunately, I have no say in my father's decisions." Tentatively, she held out her basket. „However, I am trying to make a difference, in whatever small ways I can. If you'll allow me, I've brought the children some food and clothing."

„Oh." Miss Smith's mouth opened and closed a few times. „I see. Well, naturally I assumed… Forgive my forwardness, my lady." The flabby cheeks lifted in a more cordial, if not actually warm, welcome. „Come in." She turned, her voluptuous bosom nearly knocking Felicity to the floor. „Children, we have guests."

Two dozen pairs of curious eyes stared at Felicity.

„If we're interrupting your lesson ..." Felicity began.

„Nonsense," the teacher broke in hastily, as relieved by the interruption as Lance had predicted. „Put your books away, children. The vicar has arrived. And he's brought a very special visitor, Lady Felicity Merlyn. Say, how do you do to Lady Felicity and the vicar."

Two dozen mumbled „How do you do's" followed.

Quickly, Felicity assessed the boys and girls who filled the benches surrounding the classroom's long wooden desk. Ranging in age from approximately five to thirteen years old, they were all terribly thin, all dressed in worn clothing, and all staring at Felicity as if the portrait of Queen Victoria that graced the schoolhouse wall had just come to life before their eyes.

The familiar ache tugged at Felicity's heart.

„Would you like me to introduce you, Snowdrop?" Lance asked, acutely aware of Felicity's distress.

„No. Thank you, Vicar."Felicity shot him a quick, grateful look, telling him without words that she was determined to do this on her own. „I've awaited this day for a long, long time."

„Very well." The vicar nodded, praying she would accomplish all she wanted, praying that his presence could give her the strength she needed to bridge these long-established class lines.

Felicity turned and walked toward the children. „You have no idea how much I've wanted to meet all of you," she admitted with a shy smile. „The vicar has spoken of you so often I feel we're already friends." Deliberately ignoring the ponderous silence, Felicity searched the sea of faces.

Her eyes fell on a boy of about ten. „You must be Tommy," she guessed, taking in his freckles and unruly black curls, swiftly matching them with the description Lance had provided. „I hear you have a lizard."

Meeting the boy's astonished stare, Felicity held her breath, counting each endless second until he replied.

At last, the freckled face thawed. „His name is Speedy," Tommy supplied. „I used to bring him to school, but Miss Smith made me stop."

„That's probably because she was afraid Speedy would distract you."

„No, it's because she was afraid he would bite her."

„I see." Felicity stifled a smile, feeling Miss Smith's glare bore through her back. "Tell me, Tommy, do lizards like apple pie."

He rolled his eyes in exasperation. „No. They like bugs."

„Oh." Felicity's brows drew together as she pondered that dilemma. „Well, Tommy, I didn't bring any bugs with me, so it's just as well that Speedy is at home. You'll have to take care of his feeding yourself. However, I did bring some pie."

„And, since Speedy is not here and wouldn't enjoy my dessert if he were, would you like some?"

That got the reaction she sought.

A brilliant smile illuminated Tommy's face. „I sure would!"

„You have apple pie in there?" another boy asked.

„I sure do." Felicity grinned. „What's your name?"

„Roy."

„Roy … Roy." Felicity tapped her chin thoughtfully. „As I recall, the vicar told me you carried the most firewood of anyone in the class last winter."

The boy sat up proudly. „I can carry a pile bigger than me from the woods to the school, without resting once."

„That's extraordinary! And all the more reason you need to keep up your strength." Felicity went to the basket and lifted its cover. „I have enough pie for everyone. There are also healthy portions of lamb, which I want each of you to take home to your families."

As she began to unpack the food Felicity felt a small hand tug at her skirts. Looking down, she saw a tiny, blue-eyed girl gazing up at her.

„I'm Thea," the girl offered. „What else did you bring?"

Looking over the child's torn dress, Felicity reached into the basket and extracted a piece of clothing. „I've brought this lovely new dress. Would you like it, Thea? I think it would fit you perfectly."

The blue eyes grew huge. „You are givin' it to me?" she whispered.

„It's yours."

Fondly, Thea touched the edge of the dress. „It's so pretty."

„So are you." On impulse, Felicity knelt, hugging the child to her. „And pretty girls need pretty dresses. But you've got to promise me one thing. Promise me you'll wear the dress for my next visit so I can see how lovely it looks on you."

An awed nod against Felicity's shoulder.

„Very well. Then take it home."

„That is all I have to give you? Just a promise?" Thea drew back, eyeing Felicity with the blind hope of a child and the ingrained doubt of deprivation.

„That's all you have to give me," Felicity assured her tenderly. She watched Thea snatch the dress, clutching it as if it were a priceless treasure.

Felicity had seen that passionate possessiveness before.

A never-forgotten memory sprang to her mind of the dark-haired girl at _The House of Eternal Hope _gripping her doll with the same hollow desperation as Thea now gripped the dress.

Tears clogged Felicity's throat.

„Thea" she blurted out. „Do you have a doll?"

The child winced, but she raised her chin bravely. „I had Laurel, but she's not mine anymore. Mama gave her to Sarah, so she'd stop crying."

„Sarah?"

„My little sister. She's only two. And Mama can't get the baby to sleep if Sara cries all the time. So she gave Laurel to her. Now Sara doesn't cry so much."

„That was very kind of you, giving so precious a friend away."

Thea shrugged. „I didn't want to. Mama made me."

„Thea, I know Laurel means a lot to you, but would you be willing to love a new doll?"

„Mama says we can't pay for a new doll."

„Let me tell you a secret." Felicity leaned conspiratorially forward. „I saw the most beautiful doll in the window of the village shop. She has hair the color of spun gold and a pink satin gown with a velvet bow. She also has a terrible problem."

„What?" Thea stared, mesmerized.

„No one wants her. She's been in that window for months now, and no one has taken her home. I suspect she's very frightened. After all, Christmas is a mere two months off, and I can't think of anything more dreadful for a doll than spending Christmas alone in a store window. Can you?"

„But why doesn't anyone want her?"

„Most little girls are not as unselfish as you. Most of them refuse to give up their old dolls in order to love a new one. Thankfully, your heart is bigger than theirs. So, if I brought that new doll with me next time, would you be willing to take her home and love her as you did Laurel? You'd be making her incredibly happy."

„I sure would! I'll take real good care of her and love her a whole lot, I promise."

Felicity smiled, stroking the smooth soiled cheek that was tilted earnestly toward her. „That's two promises, then … to wear your new dress and to love your new doll. You've more than repaid the cost of the dress. I have but one more favor to ask, and that is for your help. You see, Thea, I think I've brought enough dresses for all your classmates. But I need someone to help me sort out the various sizes and match the right dress with the right girl. Do you think you could help me with that?"

Thea glowed. „I know I can. I'll match 'em all, Miss … Lady…"

„Felicity. My name is Felicity."

„But the vicar didn't call you that."

Felicity grinned. „Snowdrop. The vicar has called me by that name since I was even younger than you."

„Why?"

„Have you ever seen a snowdrop, Thea?" Lance asked, coming to stand beside them.

„They're white. And pretty."

„Yes they are," he agreed. „They're also delicate … so fragile you fear they'll never survive, particularly in the dark part of winter when they first emerge. And yet, not only do they survive, but they flourish, fighting their way from the bleakness of the cold earth, opening their buds, standing steadfast and proud, and offering the world an extraordinary beauty that none can equal and few can appreciate."

„Are you really like that?" Thea asked Felicity in wonder.

„Only in some ways," Felicity answered with a grin. „I'm stubborn and I'm proud."

„You are also pretty. So is your name."

„Which one? Snowdrop or Felicity?"

„Felicity. I like it. And I like you," Thea concluded decisively.

„I'm glad. I like you, too." Felicity swallowed past the lump in her throat. „Now, shall we distribute the clothing and the pie?"

A chorus of enthusiastic yeses greeted her request.

Two hours later the basket was empty, the pie was gone, and the atmosphere in the classroom didn't resemble the aura that was in the classroom before Felicity's arrival.

Sitting among the children, Felicity was able to bring out laughter with her vivid recollections of the summer when Merlyn pond creature had terrorized her, its deep, frightening summons filling her bedroom in the darkest hours of night.

„How old were you?" Tommy asked.

„Five. I was convinced that a horrid monster was hiding in the pond, just waiting for the right opportunity to carry me off."

„Did you tell your parents?"

A shadow crossed Felicity's face. „No."

„So what did you do?"

„I finally got up enough courage to investigate on my own. I crept to the pond after dark, armed with the largest piece of wood I could carry. My teeth were chattering so loud, I could barely hear a thing. But at last I heard my monster begin his terrifying chant. I was torn between confronting him and fleeing when, all at once, he jumped out at me. Or rather, they jumped out at me." Felicity grinned. „My dreaded monster was nothing more than a family of frogs."

Tommy let out a whoop. „Did you feel dumb?"

„Very. It was the last time I allowed an animal to get the best of me. Although recently another came close."

„When?"

„This past summer."

„What happened?"

„The Merlyn estate acquired a mysterious thief who, night after night, would emerge from the woods unseen, make off with all our berries, and disappear without a trace."

„I guess, whoever he was, your thief's belly was full," Roy chuckled.

„Maybe he wasn't eating the berries. Maybe he was bringing them to someone who's poor and hungry, just like the Green Arrow Bandit does," Tommy suggested.

"You found out who it was?"

„I did. Actually, the berry thief found me. He was fleeing from a pack of dogs who were most anxious to hunt him down. I gave him sanctuary, named him Flash, and we've been fast friends ever since."

„Is Flash a fox?" Thea asked.

„Yes. He was a tiny cub when I found him, but now he's nearly six months old and very independent. His home, as it turns out, is a well-concealed hole at the edge of the Merlyn's woods … a spot that happens to be near both my bedroom and the bushes with the plumpest of the berries."

„Will you bring Flash with you the next time you come?"

„I'll try." Felicity smiled. „Flash has very much a mind of its own. But, despite its arrogance and cunning, it is a most loving pet. For a bandit."

„Have you ever met him?" Tommy asked, his eyes wide open."

„Who?"

„The real bandit. The Green Arrow Bandit. Do you know who he is?"

„No, Tommy. No one knows the identity of the Green Arrow Bandit. But, whoever he is, I think he's wonderful."

„My father says he is smarter than all the blue bloods he robs."

Felicity's lips twitched. „So far, the bandit seems to be proving your father right."

„Has he ever robbed you, Felicity?"

„I? Well, no, I can't say that he has."

„Why not? You are rich. How come the bandit hasn't been to your house?"

It was a question Felicity had asked herself time and again, with a mixture of relief and disappointment, each time she read an account of the bandit's most recent crime. The Merlyn estate was indeed a likely place to strike, given her father's wealth and blatant hostility towards the poor and the bandit's tendency for targeting both. Inevitably, the philanthropic thief would strike her home, and the prospect left her both terrified and exhilarated.

„Felicity?"

„Hmm?"

„Do you think the bandit will rob your house?" Tommy repeated patiently.

„I honestly don't know, Tommy."

"Would your father be really mad if he did?"

„That's a dumb question," Roy retorted. „Of course he would be mad. It's his money, isn't it?"

Eagerly, Tommy climbed over Roy to sit closer to Felicity. „If the bandit does rob you, will you tell us about it the next time you come?" A worried pucker formed between his brows. „You are coming back, aren't you, Felicity?"

„Of course." Felicity gave Tommy's shoulder a reassuring squeeze. „Very soon. And, to answer your question, in the unlikely event that the bandit should visit the Merlyn estate between now and that uncertain future event, I promise to relay all the details to you."

„We'd best be going, Snowdrop." As if the mere mention of Merlyn had cast an ominous cloud over the morning's celebration, Lance stood, frowning as he checked his pocket watch. „Midday is approaching. Miss Smith has barely enough time to complete her lesson."

Felicity knew it wasn't the conclusion of Miss Smith's lesson that worried the vicar. It was Felicity's long absence from Merlyn Manor … and her father's reaction to it.

„I suppose you're right." Among small noises and protests, Felicity rose, rumpling Thea's hair. „Your books are waiting for you, my young friends. As my chores do. But we'll visit again next week, if it's all right with Miss Smith?" Felicity inclined her head questioningly at the schoolmistress.

„Of course." Reluctantly, Miss Smith abandoned the relaxing fireplace, facing her students with all the enthusiasm one would expect from a prisoner facing a firing squad. „We are looking forward to it, aren't we class?"

A roomful of eager nods and a chorus of yeses.

„Good. Then we'll see Lady Felicity and the vicar one week from today."

„And Flash," Tommy added eagerly.

„Yes ...and Flash," Miss Smith echoed with a distasteful shudder. „Now, say good day, children."

„Good day," the class responded.

„Oh! And Felicity?" Tommy scooted around the teacher, rushing up to tug at Felicity's skirt.

„Yes, Tommy?" Felicity paused, waiting.

„If you should happen to see the Green Arrow Bandit, would you tell him we think he is a hero?"

A soft smile touched Felicity's lips. „I most certainly shall, Tommy. If I should happen to see him."


	4. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

„Flash, you should have seen their little faces—so sad, so lonely, so hopeless."

Felicity stroked Flash's silky head, staring off into the surrounding woods. „How many times have I seen that look of futility? And still I can do nothing. Dolls and dresses won't fill their bellies and a side of mutton can't sustain them indefinitely. So what will become of them, Flash? Will Tommy, Roy, Thea, and all those other precious children grow up to be like the men and women I saw at the Stakes yesterday? Oh, not like the ones in the fashionable boxes, but like the Gypsies telling fortunes in exchange for food and the homeless picking pockets in order to survive. Is that how they're destined to live?"

Obviously lacking an answer, Flash stood, pacing in an impatient circle around Felicity.

With a tender smile, Felicity broke off her impassioned speech. „Yes, love, I know it's nighttime and you're feeling alert and vigorous." She stifled a yawn. „But I've had a long, tiring day. Any prowling you do this evening, you do on your own."

Rising from the cold grass, Felicity shivered a bit, wishing she'd brought her shawl with her. In the hour she'd spent in the woods, dusk and twilight had melded and were graciously giving way to darkness. The air had chilled, and Felicity's already depleted body now ached from a long day fraught with turbulent emotions: self-doubt upon facing the children, anguish at seeing their deprivation, fear that her overtures would be rejected, and ultimately, joy when she'd earned their acceptance.

And with every step back to Merlyn Manor, her unease had grown.

What would she say to her father? How could she explain her prolonged absence? Could she prepare herself for the beating that would doubtless follow?

God must have taken pity on her. The marquis was blessedly away from the Merlyn Manor at a day-long business meeting in London. With no intention of looking a gift horse in the mouth, Felicity spent the duration of the day in her room, only stepping outside after she'd heard her father return, take his evening meal, and retire for the night.

Only those were her safest moments.

Intent on capturing Felicity's attention, Flash shook out his tail and waited, his features sharp.

„I know you'd prefer company," Felicity acknowledged with a smile. „But I'm truly exhausted. Moreover, I already evaded Father once today. I don't want to tempt fate yet again. You know how he feels about my nocturnal strolls. So, sleepless or not, I'd better go to bed. Now be off, and enjoy your explorations."

The fox blinked instead of giving her a reply, then turned and sauntered into the night.

Thirty minutes later, Felicity slid between the sheets, knowing that even as she did that, sleep would still elude her. It always did, no matter how tired she was. Night after night, she tossed and turned, her mind refusing to succumb to the blessed relief of slumber, fretting over the world and all its iniquities.

And tonight, there was the additional lure of her unsatisfied curiosity.

Waiting only until her maid's footsteps had disappeared down the hall, Felicity rose, lit a taper, and dragged the copy of the day's "Times" from beneath her mattress.

The headline was just as she'd expected: „_Notorious Green Arrow Bandit Baffles Authorities._"

The article went on to describe the robbery that had sent the Viscount Steelmore into a rage and reduced his viscountess to an attack of the vapors from which she'd yet to recover.

With an exasperated sigh, Felicity skipped past the silly details of the victim's distress, focusing instead on what she found most enthralling, the bandit's methods.

Evidently, he had entered the manor through the conservatory door, cutting a square of glass large enough to reach around and open the lock. He'd taken only the finest pieces of silver from the pantry, a strongbox containing seven hundred pounds in notes and coins from the library desk, two bracelets with matching brooches from the viscountess's dressing table, and, of course, her flamboyant necklace, recently purchased by the viscount. Nothing else in the manor was disturbed and no one in the household knew the crime had been committed.

Until dawn, when Viscount Steelmore awakened to find the symbolic green arrow upon his pillow—wrapped around the afforementioned arrow was the Earl of Redmund's diamond cuff link, a left-over from the bandit's most recent theft. And then, four hours later, the headmaster of the workhouse in Southwell entered his office to find a green arrow together with three thousand pounds on his desk.

Leaning closer to read the final paragraph of the article, Felicity silently celebrated the fact that the authorities had no clue as to the bandit's identity or were they any nearer to unraveling the mystery than they were months ago. „As the ton's outrage grows, so do the accolades of the working class," the Times reported. „And through it all, the Green Arrow Bandit thrives, and no one seems able to predict where he will strike next, or stop his series of extravagant crimes."

With a heartfelt sigh, Felicity put down the newspaper and extinguished her candle. Then, satisfied that her avenging hero was righting the world's wrongs in a way she could not, she climbed into bed and closed her eyes.

Her final thought was of the beautiful doll she'd purchased before returning to Merlyn Manor this morning … a doll that was now carefully concealed in her wardrobe. Somewhat satisfied, Felicity drifted off to sleep, trying to visualize Thea's forthcoming joy.

And passionately wishing she could make that joy last.

The thin blade slipped between the window sashes, forcing back the catch. The little crowbar followed, prying the decorative shutters open just enough to admit the hooded figure in green.

Without a noise, the bandit lowered himself onto the parlor floor, his eyes gleaming as he surveyed the dark, deserted room. As was his custom, he waited, although, in this case it was mere habit that compelled him to do so. No one was about, and no scrutiny was necessary. After numerous nocturnal visits to these grounds in particular, he knew Merlyn's late-night routine like a well-read book. The servants, the family, and the marquis would all be abed by midnight.

Ironic that he'd chosen this, of all homes, to invade, when everything in it already belonged to him.

Ironic, but infinitely appealing … for many reasons.

Slipping the crowbar and file into his coat pocket, the bandit swiftly removed his shoes. Then he lit a single candle and began his work.

The drawing room revealed no surprises, the only worthwhile items being a few pieces of silver plate and a silver soup ladle. Taking those, he made his way to the library.

The marquis's desk offered not the slightest challenge. The expected cash box was there, although he hadn't anticipated quite so much as he found: fifty pounds in silver and seventy-five pounds in gold. With a shrug, he reached to the back of the drawer, carefully feeling his way until he found the secret panel he sought. With a little help from his file, the panel came away, revealing a gold pocket watch, two antique rings, a dozen five-pound notes and twenty ten-pound notes.

For a destitute man, Merlyn was doing quite well.

Not for long, the bandit thought with a smile.

Deftly he stashed his booty in a sack he kept tucked inside the lining of his coat. Then he eased open the doorway and slipped into the hall. The corridors were dark. He crept to the foot of the stairs. Silently, he ascended, treading only on the inside edge of each step so as not to evoke even the slightest creak.

He reached the second-floor landing.

As always, he headed first for the mistress's bed-chamber. The marchioness was deeply asleep, her door unlocked.

The bandit worked swiftly, taking only the dressing case of jewels and the gold locket that lay beside it.

Closing the door behind him, he moved across the hall to the marquis's room.

Gloved fingers on the door handle, the bandit paused, gazing down the corridor to the bedroom he knew to be hers. In his recurrent nightly scrutiny, he'd seen her light extinguished time and again. Hers was always the last room at the Merlyn Manor to lapse into darkness.

What was it that kept her awake? Was it a book? A worry? Thoughts of a man?

The questions erupted in his mind, along with another, more compelling one.

How would she look in slumber? Would she sleep curled on her side, her hair primly braided, her body ensconced in a chaste white nightgown buttoned to the neck? Or would she be unreserved, her hair unbound, her nightgown sheer and deeply cut?

After yesterday, he had to know.

Before he could rethink his foolish actions, the bandit steered away from his original mark and headed toward her chamber. There was no excuse for his behavior, and he knew it. He should be rifling the marquis's chambers, leaving his symbolic gem, and take his leave. To divert from his customary methods was risky, insane. Unprecedented.

Until now.

Finding the door unlocked, the bandit stepped inside, keeping his candle close to himself and low, so not to awaken her.

She was breathtaking.

The dim glow of the candle flickered across her face, giving her an ethereal beauty, unrivaled in its impact. Sprawled on her back, with her hair fanned over the pillow like a golden waterfall, she was an angel, in her splendor, all captivating innocent and excruciating seductive.

And far from prim.

The tangle of sheets was caught about her waist, giving the bandit an unimpeded view of her body. Mesmerized, he watched her breasts rise and fall softly above the low cut of her bodice, her bare throat and shoulders exposed, inviting his touch.

Sweat broke out beneath his mask, desire exploding in his loins like cannon fire, as startling as it was fierce. He wanted her. It was that simple. Only years of self-discipline kept him from acting on his impulse and taking her where she lay.

He was a bloody thief, for God's sake, and he'd come into the Merlyn Manor to strip the marquis of his possessions.

Instead, all he wanted to deprive the marquis of, was his daughter.

Silently, the bandit fought the hunger raging inside him, a hunger rooted in too many emotions to explore, and utterly unthinkable to indulge. He had to leave the manor … now.

He made no sound, of that he was certain.

Yet all at once, her lashes lifted, fluttered, then lifted again.

„Oh!" She sat bolt upright, all semblance of sleep vanishing in a heartbeat.

Lightning quick, the bandit reached for his arrows, his fingers closing around the string of his bow. Cursing himself for his careless stupidity, he withdrew it slowly, praying she wouldn't force him to use it.

„Don't scream. I don't want to have to hurt you."

The raspy command caused the appearance a bone-melting smile. „You're him, aren't you?" Felicity whispered, climbing from her bed. „You're the Green Arrow Bandit!"

His gaze swept her scantily clad body, then, with the greatest of efforts, returned to her face. „Did you hear me?"

„I was wondering why you hadn't come to the Merlyn Manor before now. I racked my brain trying to think of how I might send you a message, suggesting that you visit us."

He started, desire checked by disbelief. „Do you understand who I am? Why I've come?"

„Of course." Felicity shrugged into a robe, seemingly oblivious to her state of undress. „You can put your bow away. You won't be needing it." Tucking a wisp of hair behind her ear, she crossed the room, gathering up the strand of pearls and exquisitely crafted cameo from her dressing table, and thrusting them at the bandit. „Here. Unfortunately, they're all I have. But Mama has a jewel case filled with lovely gems. I'm sure she'd want you to have them. She's a fairly deep sleeper, so I wouldn't worry about disturbing her. Father, on the other hand …" Felicity broke off, frowning. „Before we resolve that problem, did you retrieve the cash box from the library? I'm certain Father keeps additional funds hidden away elsewhere in that room, but I'm not sure precisely where. I do know that he keeps absolutely nothing of value in his bed-chamber." A wry grin. „Fear of burglary, you see. In any case, don't waste your time searching there. Also, I understand you always restrict yourself to jewelry … and money and silver, of course … but we do have a few paintings that would yield a decent sum, as well as some fine fabrics that were terribly expensive. Do you think your contact would be interested in them? If so, I'd be happy to …."

„Stop!" the bandit exclaimed. Stunned, he shoved his the arrow back into his quiver and took the jewelry from her hand. „One of us is mad. I'm just not certain which."

Felicity inclined her head quizzically. „Why?"

„Why?" He had barely enough presence of mind to keep his voice in that unrecognizable raspy tone. „Because you're not only undisturbed by my presence, you're helping me to rob your home … despite the fact that you obviously know who I am."

„It's because I know who you are that I'm helping you. It's also the reason I'm unafraid." Adoration shone in her eyes. „A man who helps hundreds of needy children wouldn't harm one innocent woman. No, sir, I feel no fear in your presence."

Surprisingly, her praise stirs up feelings of irritation, rather than pleasure. With brutal honesty, he threw her description back at her.

„Innocent woman? Tell me then, little virgin, do you make it a practice to entertain men in your bed-chamber?"

„Pardon me?"

He indicated her scanty nightgown. „I only wondered why a beautiful and innocent woman would so carelessly display her attributes before a complete stranger."

Felicity winced as though she'd been struck, glancing down at her sheer nightgown and open robe as if seeing them for the first time.

Her bewilderment, her pain, were like blows to his gut, and the bandit's anger dissipated as quickly as it had come. She had no way of understanding the complexity of what he was feeling. Hell, he didn't even understand it himself.

Soberly, he watched her draw the edges of her robe together with trembling hands, and shame and remorse rising inside him. She was as honestly naive as a child, possessing not a shred of experience at seducing men. It wasn't her fault that he wanted her beyond reason, that she stripped away an iron control he'd spent thirty years building. The weakness was his, and he had no right to torment her for it.

„Forgive me," he murmured, „that assault was inexcusable. You owe me no explanation."

„Nevertheless, I'd like to offer you one." Self-consciously, she crossed her arms over her breasts. „It isn't that I'm unduly immodest. It is only that I didn't realize … that is, I don't think of you as … I mean, I know you're a … but I never imagined…" Twin spots of red stained her cheeks.

„You mean you never thought of me as a man?" The bandit stepped closer, lifting her chin with one gloved forefinger. „I assure you, Felicity, I'm very much a man. And you are very much a woman."

„You know my name," she whispered.

„Your name … and a great deal more."

Those incredible blue eyes searched his face, as if seeing clear through his mask to the man beneath.

„Now you are wondering who I am." Hoarsely, he read her mind.

„I'm wondering many things. I have so many questions." He slid his hand around to caress her nape. „Ask, then. Anything but my name. Ask."

She wet her lips with the tip of her tongue. „My head is spinning. I can't seem to think." A tiny smile. „I'm sure I'll curse myself in the morning. But, be that as it may, you dare not delay your task any longer, for our servants are instructed to rise before dawn. Whatever questions I have, must remain unanswered for now. Nothing is more important than your leaving Merlyn Manor undetected."

He stared at her mouth, possessed by the nearly uncontrollable desire to tear off his hood and kiss her.

She seemed to feel it, too, for her breath came faster, and the pulse in her neck began to beat rapidly. „I'll pray for you," she whispered.

„I don't believe in prayers."

„But you must. You answer them." Hesitant, she brushed her fingers across his masked jaw.

A low groan escaped his chest. „Ah, Felicity." Touching her in the only way he could, he ran his fingers through her hair, wishing he could feel its silky texture. „Pray for me then."

She smiled. „I always do."

If he didn't leave now, he never would. „Good night, Felicity."

„Wait ..." She stayed him, blurting out her request as if it required all her courage. „I know it's none of my business, but unless you have a specific workhouse chosen to receive tonight's profits, would you consider donating them to an establishment I know to be especially needy?"

He said nothing, still fighting the fire in his loins.

„Please?" she repeated softly.

„What is this workhouse?"

„It's located in Crocker Hill and is called The House of Eternal Hope " Felicity gave a hollow laugh. „It is anything but that."

The bandit went rigid, his hand tightening reflexively on her nape. „Why this workhouse in particular?"

Felicity paled, but she didn't flinch. „I visited there once, as a child. I've never forgotten." She swallowed, hard. „It would mean a great deal to me. Please, sir, it's all I ask."

„You ask very little." Another pause. „What would your father say if he knew you were aiding me …. to rob your own home, no less?"

Felicity didn't hesitate. „He would beat me senseless."

The bandit's hand relaxed, shifting to idly stroke her cheek. „You are extraordinary, my lady. Truly extraordinary. I only wish ..." He broke off, lowering his arm to his side. „Go back to bed, Felicity. Go back to bed and pretend none of this happened."

„I'm afraid I can't do that."

He started. „Pardon me?"

„Sir, I assume you've brought some jewel from your last robbery and that your intention is to leave it in alongside the customary green arrow upon my father's pillow. Is that right?"

Beneath his mask, the bandit smiled. „Quite right."

„Well, didn't you hear what I told you? My father is a very light sleeper. He will surely awaken. And then … „ she shuddered, a spasm of pain crossing her face. „Let just say that your mission would fail and you would fall victim to his rather frightening temper."

„I appreciate your concern. But, at the risk of appearing immodest, I'm excellent at my craft. Rest easy, your father will not be awakened."

„You're wrong, sir." Felicity gripped his coat sleeves. „But don't let that stop you. Give me the jewel and the arrow. I shall place them on my father's pillow for you."

„And if he awakens?"

„I have a far better chance of explaining away my presence in my father's bed-chamber than you do."

„But if he is as volatile as you say, don't you risk inciting his anger?"

Her smile was resigned. „I'm accustomed to bearing the brunt of my father's hostility. Moreover, I am but one person. Your cause protects many. It is worth the gamble."

Tenderness tightens in the bandit's chest. „And are you so proficient a gambler, my lady?"

A flicker of something flashed in her eyes. „So I'm told, sir. I'm also quite a bit smaller than you and extremely light on my feet. So, indeed, the odds are with me."

„Very well." He found himself extracting the green arrow from his quiver and the ruby from his sack and handing them to her … yet another unprecedented action. „Here."

Felicity glanced down and grinned. „The stone is from that monstrosity of a necklace belonging to Viscountess Steelmoore."

„It was horrendous, wasn't it?" the bandit agreed.

A current of understanding passed between them.

„Go, sir," Felicity instructed softly. „I'll finish your task. Only please, give the funds to that workhouse in Crocker Hill, if at all possible."

„Consider it is done."

„Thank you." Felicity's voice shook. „Meeting you was an honor, sir." She turned and hastened to her bed-chamber door. „Oh." Pausing, she looked back over her shoulder. „I have a message for you. The children in the village school asked that, should you and I ever meet, I make certain you know you're their hero. Which, given the vast potential of their loving hearts, is a most glowing tribute."

„Now it is I who am honored."

„Good night, sir. God bless you."

„Good night, Felicity."

He watched her go, assailed by a wealth of feeling as unexpected as his desire. Slipping out after her, he waited only until he'd heard her enter her father's chamber before he followed, determined, with or without Felicity's knowledge or consent, to ensure that she remained safe, undiscovered and unharmed.

She was impressively light on her feet, he noted, flattening himself against the wall outside Merlyn's room and watching in admiration as she tiptoed across to her father's bed. And her timing was impeccable. She executed the placement of the arrow & ruby precisely as he would have, waiting until the marquis was drawing an inward breath, when he would be least able to notice her whisper of a motion. Then, she acted, her touch as light as her step.

The bandit grinned. He'd learned at an a very early age that in order to succeed in life one needed to possess three traits: cunning, skill, and instinct. Armed with all three, one's future was ensured, one's possibilities limitless. Fortunately, cunning and skill could be taught. Unfortunately, instinct could not.

Like compassion, instinct was a gift to be born with, not acquired.

Felicity Merlyn had been born with both.

He wasn't surprised. He'd told her as much just yesterday. When she'd placed her first wager at the Stakes.


	5. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

Damn, he was tired.

Oliver shut the front door of his house against the mid-morning sunlight, tiredly removing the folded mask from his coat pocket, and stuffing it into its customary hiding place beneath the floor planks.

His night's work was now complete.

He'd waited only until an unsuspecting Felicity had tiptoed back into her room before leaving Merlyn Manor, riding the ten miles to his home at a breakneck pace. Arriving in Wellingborough at half past three, he'd awaited his contact's arrival, prepared to leave the instant he and Thompson completed their transaction in order to return home before dawn.

Thompson arrived moments later, unnerved by Oliver's hasty summons—delivered by messenger to Thompson's shop just before closing time. Swiftly but expertly he inspected the jewels, then muttered, „Thirty-five hundred pounds."

„Done." Oliver didn't question the offer. Over the past five years, he and Thompson had routinely concluded numerous successful and unorthodox business transactions in the back room of Thompson's jewelry shop. Thompson was too smart to try something as rash as scam Oliver.

Once Thompson had gone, Oliver combined the thirty-five hundred pounds with the marquis's notes and coins. In total, it added up to just over four thousand pounds.

Oliver then sweetened the pot—more than usual, given the circumstances.

The sack attached to the green arrow he left at the workhouse contained ten thousand pounds.

Felicity would be pleased, he reflected, although she had no notion that her touching sentiments had stirred feelings long suppressed, that she'd forced him to confront a time and a place he'd sworn never to revisit—his past.

It had been eighteen years since he'd left those detested walls behind, but the painful memories remained, hovering just below the surface, needing only one glimpse to trigger their return.

They'd accosted him full force the moment he'd stepped inside "The House Of Eternal Hope."

Every moldy corner was as he remembered it, every crack in the ceiling as vivid as it had been years ago when he'd lain awake, staring up and praying passionately for a miracle. The blistered plaster seemed to taunt his naiveté, squashing those boyhood prayers, and teaching him that prayers were for the haves, self-reliance for the have-nots.

Oliver could still recall the day he'd approached his mother with those all-important questions: Who was his father? Why weren't they living with him? Why did he allow them to stay in this horrible place?

Moira Dearden had answered her five-year-old son with tears in her eyes. His father was a wealthy, married nobleman. She'd been a tavern maid until her pregnancy was discovered, at which point she'd been discharged. She'd gone to Oliver's father, but, because of his wife and his social position, his hands were tied. To acknowledge their child was impossible. Surely Oliver could understand.

Oliver understood perfectly.

His father was a haves. He and his mother were have-nots. Two years later, Moira Dearden died, succumbing to a racking cough and a defeated heart.

Prayers would not bring her back. Neither would they punish the heartless bastard who'd thrown her into the streets when she'd told him she was carrying his child.

It was on that day that Oliver made two irrevocable decisions.

As a have-not, he would ensure his own future, never leaving it in fate's unpredictable hands. And never again would he fall victim to the power of the nobility.

Somehow, some way, he would victimize them.

Tonight he had done himself proud.

Heading upstairs to bed, Oliver reflected on how damned rewarding it had felt to place the green arrow and the sack of money right on the headmaster's desk, to boldly invade the bloody sanctuary he hadn't dared to enter as a child—not if he wanted to live. Not when it was Blood's domain.

Thankfully for the current workhouse occupants, that scum had died five years ago, and his replacement was reputedly a compassionate sort who would use the money to improve the conditions in the workhouse, rather than to fill his own pockets and the pockets of the two corrupt noblemen who'd ensured his position.

_Noblemen_

Dropping tiredly to his bed, Oliver gritted his teeth, recalling the first time he'd overheard those unscrupulous blackguards talking with Blood.

Hunger pains had awakened him that winter night, gnawing at his gut until laying down became an agony impossible to bear. He'd slipped from the sheets, the cold air invading his blood, causing his eight-year-old body to shake uncontrollably. But still, he'd stolen down to the kitchen to steal some food.

Taking a shortcut back to his bed was a mistake, for it led right by the headmaster's office. By the time Oliver spied the light burning through the crack in Blood's door, it was too late to retreat, and the cold in his bones was replaced by terror. If the headmaster found him up and about, and with stolen bread, no less, he'd whip him mercilessly.

Inching past the door, Oliver prayed that Blood had fallen asleep at his desk.

„Here's a hundred pounds more, Merlyn."

The headmaster's voice dispelled that hope.

„Excellent. And the rest?"

The sound of a fist slammed on the desk. „Dammit, Merlyn! The local vicarage only donated three hundred pounds. Certainly you don't expect me to give all of it ..."

„I most certainly do," Merlyn interrupted. „Three hundred pounds, divided equally between Queen and myself."

„And what of me?" Blood snapped. „What do I gain from this little arrangement?"

„What you always gain. The opportunity to retain your upstanding position as headmaster. Isn't that right, Queen?"

„Right, Merlyn. Right." The third man's chair scraped as he rose to his feet. „Now let's end this meeting and be on our way."

Taking advantage of their noisy preparations to depart, Oliver had bolted, not stopping until he'd reached the safety of his bed.

But all night he was plagued by memories of that conversation and its implications—implications even a child could understand.

Once again, the haves were prospering at the expense of the have-nots.

Dragging himself back to the present, Oliver swore softly, rubbing his eyes, wishing he could just as easily rub out the memories. He half wished he'd never promised Felicity he'd go to the The House of Eternal Hope. The other half of him, however, felt a smug and overwhelming satisfaction that the money he'd provided to aid this particular workhouse was pilfered from the very nobleman who'd exploited it for so many years: the despicable Marquis Malcolm Merlyn.

Oliver didn't doubt that the funds would be wisely spent. He'd ensured that by adding a little note to the money attached at his green arrow: a note that read, „_Use these funds for the workhouse, or I'll be back.."_

A sudden thought sprang to mind, making Oliver chuckle, despite the night's fatigue and emotional turmoil. Felicity would approve of that additional touch. Doubtless, she would applaud the bandit for his cleverness and integrity. He wished he could see her face when she read the details in the newspaper.

Felicity. Just the thought of her made Oliver smile. She was the most bewitching, complex enigma he'd ever encountered.

He could see her as vividly as if she stood right there in his bed-chamber, shy and withdrawn, intelligent and tenacious, principled and compassionate.

And so bloody beautiful that she stole his breath and his reason, prompting him to take a risk that might have meant his downfall.

But Felicity would never betray him.

How the hell he knew that, he wasn't certain. He just did … and had, even before she'd awakened, looked up at him with those melting eyes, and helped him rob her home. There was an intangible but an implicit understanding between them, a commonality rooted in something deep and meaningful. He'd felt it at the Stakes, then again in her room … tenderness, affinity. And desire. Desire so powerful it had nearly brought him to his knees. The combination was intriguing as hell; fascinating, exciting…

And, for many reasons, terrifying.

Because it was a combination Oliver innately understood would touch him in ways he'd never been touched, render him vulnerable in ways he couldn't refute, couldn't master.

He couldn't allow it.

For thirty years he'd lived, worked, and prospered alone, and he had no wish to alter that reality. To him, autonomy meant survival. Oh, he cared deeply about those who needed him, about his cause, about the helpless.

But never about one.

Yet she was Merlyn's daughter.

Oliver laced his fingers behind his head, confronted by a question he'd tried desperately to dodge.

What did that bastard do to her?

Visions crawled into Oliver's mind like disgusting insects, too heinous to be ignored. How many times, during his workhouse days, he was the witness to the marquis's vile temper? How many children had Merlyn tormented? How many others had he beat up?

Dear lord, did he beat her?

Oliver felt his insides twist.

She had implied as much to the bandit. But for God's sake, how could he? Felicity was his only child. She was small and delicate and beautiful.

And I'm thinking like a stupid fool, Oliver chastised himself bitterly. Who could be more fragile and unprotected than starving workhouse children? And if he brutalized them…

Frantically, Oliver recalled tonight's burglary, reliving the moments he'd spent with Felicity. No. He'd seen no welts on her neck or shoulders, no bruises on her slender arms. Of course that didn't mean anything. Merlyn was a smart man, too smart to leave such damning evidence unconcealed.

She was terrified of her father. Oliver had seen it, felt it, at the Stakes.

What prompted that fear? Was it Merlyn's violence?

Protective tenderness surged inside him, and Oliver tightened his grip until his knuckles turned white. Felicity needed him. It was that simple. And, whatever the risk, he would be there for her.

Would she welcome his presence?

His lack of title and position wouldn't deter her, not Felicity. Just as he deemed her heritage an accident of birth, he instinctively knew she would view his background in much the same light. But how would she feel when she learned of Oliver's hatred for her father, of the vengeance he was determined to execute?

Because taking Merlyn's money was only the beginning. Oliver intended to see him in hell.

And whether Felicity feared her father or not, whether Merlyn were the most detestable of scoundrels, Felicity was too fine of a person to renounce the man who'd sired her, especially to walk into the arms of the enemy who sought to destroy him.

Which left Oliver … where?

Felicity's true loyalties were clear and undeniable. Like him, she sought to protect those less fortunate than she, as well as those in danger.

Tonight, she'd protected the Green Arrow Bandit.

Grinning at the memory of Felicity's outrageous actions, Oliver felt more than a spark of pride. Heedless of her own safety, she'd spared him from Merlyn's ruthlessness, taking the ruby to her father's chambers so the bandit could escape undetected.

Her selflessness, her cunning, her earnest need to help, the inner beauty that melded with her physical radiance, made him want her all the more.

And she wanted him. Badly.

Or did she?

Oliver halted in his tracks.

Yes, she'd sat by his side at the Stakes tested her daring, trusted her instincts. Yes, she'd relaxed in his presence, joined in his banter, shivered at his touch.

But the true awakening of Felicity's sensuality, the exquisite unfolding he'd glimpsed, the longing and the exhilaration she felt, had occurred tonight.

And it was not for him, but for the Green Arrow Bandit.

Felicity was infatuated with a man who didn't exist, a romanticized champion of the poor who was more a god than a man.

What were the odds of combating such a fantasy?

Not good, Oliver decided, tapping his chin thoughtfully. Not good at all. He'd provided himself with a unique and near-impossible challenge, one that required cunning, skill, and instinct.

To hell with the doubts and questions.

Veering to his desk, Oliver extracted a sheet of paper and a pen.

This was a high-stakes gamble in the most dangerous of territories.

Fortunately, he was one hell of a gambler.

Felicity pushed her food around on her plate, keeping her gaze firmly fixed on her fork.

„My lady, you must eat something." With a worried frown, Felicity's lady's maid hovered over her mistress. „I promised the marchioness I wouldn't leave this bed-chamber until you did."

„I know, Joanna, and I appreciate it, truly. But I'm just not terribly hungry today."

Joanna winced as the sound of the marquis's bellowing emerged from the first floor. „I understand your distress. Last night's robbery has upset all of us. Why, the entire house is in turmoil. But it's after noon, and you do need to keep your strength up. Please, my lady, won't you just eat a bit of Mrs. Raisa's pudding? It's your favorite."

The last thing Felicity wanted was pudding. But what she really wanted—to be alone with her thoughts—would be impossible unless she complied with Joanna's wishes. „Very well, a bit, perhaps."

Beaming, Joanna watched her nibble three or four less-than-enthusiastic spoonfuls of the pudding and take a big gulp of tea. „There, my lady. Now don't you feel better?"

„Much better, Joanna." Felicity pushed the tray away. „But you're right about the house being in chaos. All morning long the authorities were here, the servants were whirling about, and Father was agitated. It's taken its toll on me. I do believe I need to rest."

„Of course you do," Joanna crooned, gathering up the tray. „You lie down and I'll make sure you're not disturbed."

„Thank you."

Felicity slid between the sheets and closed her eyes, relieved to hear the door shut behind Joanna's retreating figure. At last, solitude. Solitude to relive last night.

He'd been every bit as dashing as she knew he'd be—tall and broad and powerful, swathed in green from head to toe. She'd felt his strength when he touched her, even through the his glove. Never had she felt so vital and alive as when he'd loomed over her, murmuring her name, gazing into her eyes.

He'd offered to answer anything she asked, anything but his name. And what had she done? Stared blankly up at him like some lovesick schoolgirl, when all she really wanted was to blurt out a million things at once: Where did he come from? What spawned the incredible compassion he possessed? How did he choose the recipients of his funds and the victims of his robberies? Did he loathe life's injustices as she did? How could she help him? What more could she do for the ill and the needy?

Would he ever come to her again?

That possibility made her heart pound frantically. He'd seemed to like her, even seemed pleased with her cooperation. His eyes—the only unconcealed part of him—had spoken volumes, as had his carefully disguised rasp. And, at that moment, she would have gone anywhere, dared anything he asked of her.

If only he'd asked.

„This is an outrage! Find that bandit, whoever the hell he is, lock him away and throw away the keys."

Felicity cringed, pressing her palms over her ears to block out her father's shouts. She'd have to go down and face him sometime, but right now she couldn't bear it. Neither could she be a convincing enough liar, not only to act shocked and outraged, but also to feign ignorance regarding the theft. It was easier to plead upset and remain in her room.

Her mind resumed its wild racing.

She could almost see the rejoicing that was doubtless taking place in the workhouse right now. Exactly where had the bandit left his arrow? Who had discovered it? How much money had it contained? When would the details reach Merlyn Manor so she might privately celebrate the bandit's success? And, when the news did arrive, how on earth would she manage to repress her joy and convincingly console her father?

What would he do to her if her efforts failed? What if he suspected the way she felt, or worse, what she'd done?

A knock interrupted Felicity's shuddering thought.

„Yes?"

„May I come in, dear?" Felicity's mother opened the door and tentatively poked her head in.

„Of course, Mama." Drawing her knees up, Felicity patted the bed. „I thought you were with Father."

„No, your father is in his study with the magistrate."

„The magistrate!" Felicity paled. „I thought only the constable was here."

Her mother sighed, closing the door and crossing the room to sit beside her. „Malcolm wasn't satisfied with the constable's efforts to recover our property. He demanded to see the magistrate. Unfortunately, I don't think we know any more now than we did then." Lowering her eyes, she fidgeted with the bed covers.

„Mama." Felicity leaned forward, touching her mother's hand. „Are you all right?"

Nodding, Donna squeezed Felicity's fingers. „Your father's anger appears to be directed only at the bandit and at those who cannot catch him—at least for the moment."

Silence hung heavily between them.

„You're not fretting over your jewels, are you?" Felicity asked, knowing the answer but anxious to divert her mother's line of thought.

A sad smile touched Donna's lips. „Hardly. You know how little rings and brooches mean to me. The workhouses need food more than I need adornments. Although, God help me if Malcolm were to hear me say that."

„He won't. But consider it Mama. Think how many people our gems are going to help." Felicity's eyes glowed. „I only wish I'd had more to give him. As it is, I had nothing but my pearls and my pendant, so ..."

„Give him?" Donna cut in.

Felicity's mouth snapped shut.

„Felicity." Her mother's expression had turned incredulous. „Did you see the bandit last night?"

Feeling like a fly caught in a web, Felicity sought escape and found none. „Yes, I saw him," she admitted reluctantly. „I gave him whatever aid I could. Then I sent him away so he wouldn't be caught."

„Dear Lord." Donna's thin hands were shaking. „If Malcolm had an idea —even the slightest hint—Felicity, have you any idea what he'd ..."

„Yes." Felicity raised her chin proudly. „But it was worth the risk. I'd do it again."

For a fleeting instant, a hundred questions danced in Donna's eyes, and Felicity had a glimpse of the sparkling young woman who was no longer. Then, just as quickly, shudders of fear descended, suppressing the curiosity with years of instilled submission. „I don't want to hear any more." Nervously, Donna glanced at the closed door. „Let's pretend we never had this conversation."

„But, Mama ..."

„Felicity, please." The terrified plea lay naked in Donna's eyes, tearing at Felicity's heart.

„Of course, Mama. As you wish."

„As it must be," Donna murmured. She rose to her feet, pausing almost against her will. „You're dreadfully pale. Some fresh air would do you a world of good. A walk perhaps? To the village?"

Slowly, Felicity raised her head, meeting her mother's gaze. „The village?"

„Yes. I think a brisk stroll would put some color back in your cheeks. I would suggest taking Joanna along, but the magistrate does need to question all the servants. So, given the circumstances, you'd better go alone. Is that all right, dear?"

A grateful smile touched Felicity's lips. „Yes, Mama, that's fine."

„Good. Then I'll leave you to dress. I'd best see if your father needs me." Donna bent to kiss Felicity's forehead. „Send my warmest regards to the vicar," she added in a breath of a whisper, „and tell him our stable-boys will be requiring new boots this winter. They should be arriving at about the same time as the shipment of wool."

Felicity's whole face lit up. „Oh, Mama."

With a resolute shake of her head, Donna silenced Felicity by pressing a forefinger to her lips. „Have a lovely walk, darling." She straightened. „I won't expect you home for several hours."

„God bless you, Mama," Felicity said softly to her mother's retreating back.

Donna paused, her head bowed. „May He protect us all."

The door closed behind her.

Felicity was dressed and ready in a quarter hour.

Running a comb through her hair, she rehearsed what she would say if she encountered her father on the way out, although most likely her mother had already paved the way.

A walk. About the grounds. Through the thick woods surrounding Merlyn estate.

That could take hours.

Descending to the first level, Felicity walked hesitantly by her father's study and straight into the oncoming inferno that was her father.

„That arrogant bastard! I refuse to allow him to provoke me again!" Malcolm exploded, waving a sheet of paper in the air. „I'm going to bring him down if it's the last thing I do."

Felicity's first thought was that her father had encountered the identity of the bandit, and great fear for her hero's safety replaced the customary dread her father's outbursts provoked.

„Father?" she blurted out. „What's happened? Have you discovered something about the robbery?"

„What?" Malcolm blinked, focusing on Felicity as if he was seeing her for the first time. A vein throbbed in his temple. „No. As if last night's theft wasn't enough, I'm being forced to meet with the lowlife I'm compelled to do business with, and at my own home, no less."

„Oh." Felicity was totally at sea, and terrified to question her father further. Convinced that his current rampage wasn't connected with the bandit, common sense re-surfaced, urging her to flee before the Marquis turned his anger on her.

Slowly, she inched toward the door.

Malcolm whirled about, shaking his fist in Felicity's direction. „He's insisting on a meeting now. Today. At Merlyn Manor."

Felicity's terrified gaze was focused on her father's tightly clenched fist. Frantically, she sought the words to placate him. „Today? But surely if you told him about last night's theft ..."

„It would change nothing. That gutter rat cares for nothing but his own pocket."

The irony of her father's biting description struck Felicity even through her fear. Greed was something Malcolm knew much about, and usually admired. Evidently not in this case. „Who are you speaking of, Father? Who is this dreadful man?"

„That bloody Oliver Dearden, that's who."

„Oliver Dearden?" Felicity blinked in amazement. „The gentleman we met at the Stakes?"

„He's no gentleman, daughter. He's a parasite, a predatory bloodsucker who drains men of their dignity and their money."

„But I thought you were business associates?"

„I don't willingly associate with worthless, nameless gamblers."

„I don't understand." Felicity's asked puzzled.

„And you don't need to understand," the marquis roared, advancing toward her.

„Why are you wandering around the manor? Your mother said you were out walking."

All the color drained from Felicity's face and, unconsciously she backed away. „I am—I mean, I'm about to. I'm leaving now."

„Then go!"

„Yes, Father. Forgive me for disturbing you." Spinning around, she bolted out the door and through the woods.

She didn't stop until the manor was swallowed up by the towering oaks that surrounded it. Then, she slowed, dragging air into her lungs, trying to still her trembling.

Lord, how she loathed this feeling of helplessness. Perhaps if she were more like her mother, accepting, her plight would be bearable.

The fact was, Felicity was neither accepting nor pliable. She tolerated her incessant, oppressive fear because her choices were non-existent. But somewhere inside her a voice cried out that living conditions such as hers were unjust, cruel, unfair. That the same crushing tyranny perpetuating the English workhouses pervaded Merlyn Manor as well, and always had, spawned by the blatant prejudice and hostility of its master.

The sight of the vicar chatting with a messenger in the church garden made Felicity's sagging spirits lift instantly.

„Vicar!" She waved, picking up her pace until she was half running toward him.

Lance turned, his face breaking into a broad smile. „Felicity! What a delightful surprise." He pressed a few shillings into the messagenger's hand as he unfolded the note he'd just been given. „Thank you for your trouble, boy."

„Thank you, sir." Clutching the coins, the boy dashed off, mounted his horse, and was gone.

„Who was that?" Felicity asked, breathlessly reaching the vicar's side.

„Hmmm?" Her friend was already immersed in his reading.

„That messenger. What news did he deliver?"

Quirking a brow, the vicar replied, „Evidently, you know the answer to that better than I."

„This is about last night's robbery, isn't it?" Felicity gripped his forearm. „Isn't it?"

„Indeed."

„Oh, tell me, Vicar. How much did he leave them?"

A dry chuckle. „You are a constant source of amazement to me, Snowdrop. No fear, no disquiet, only your usual loving curiosity. One would never suspect it was your home the bandit had invaded."

„How much?"

„Ten thousand pounds."

Felicity gasped. „The jewelry and silver he took weren't worth half that amount."

„Nevertheless, that is the sum the headmaster discovered in the sack attached to the arrow on his desk. Oddly, though, there was also a written threat."

„A threat? What kind of threat?"

The vicar glanced down, rereading the note. „According to the headmaster, the bandit demanded the money be used for the benefit of the workhouse or he'd return to ensure that it was."

„What a heroic gesture!" Felicity's eyes sparkled. „And perfectly understandable, given the large sum involved. Vicar ..." Anxiety clouded Felicity's face. „Are you well acquainted with the workhouse headmaster? He isn't the type to waste funds, is he?"

„Certainly not. He's a decent, honorable ..." Abruptly, the vicar broke off. „If you already knew where the funds went, why are you questioning me?"

„I knew where they went, yes. But that's all I know. No details have reached Merlyn Manor yet."

„If no details have reached Merlyn Manor, how did you know the bandit donated your family's funds to the workhouse?"

Felicity met her friend's puzzled gaze. „Because he promised me he would."

Mr. Lance's eyes widened with disbelief. „He? The bandit?"

„Yes."

A sharp intake of breath. „I think we'd best go inside the church and talk."

„I was hoping you'd say that."

Seated on a bench beside her friend, Felicity re-told the whole story, leaving out only her very private, very unsettling physical reaction to the man who'd stood in her bed-chamber the night before, stirring her in ways she didn't fully understand, but very much wanted to.

„Felicity" Lance leaned forward. „You're telling me you helped the man rob your house, and that you yourself placed the ruby attached to the arrow on Malcolm's pillow?"

„I couldn't risk Father discovering the bandit in his bed-chamber. You of all people understand that. Father would not only have turned him over to the authorities, but beaten him senseless as well. Please Vicar," Felicity's gaze was pleading, „don't condemn me for doing what I must."

„I'm not condemning you, Snowdrop." The vicar took her hands in his. „But do you understand the risk you took? Had your father awakened, that fierce beating would have been yours."

„I would have withstood it. I've withstood others."

Lines of pain tightened the vicar's mouth. „How well I know that." A pause. „Your mother—is she all right?"

„Yes. Father is so obsessed with catching the bandit, he has little time to vent his rage on others." Felicity's expression grew thoughtful. „With the exception of Oliver Dearden."

„Oliver Dearden? The gentleman you met at the Stakes? I don't understand."

„I'm not certain I do either. But, if you recall, I told you that Father's behavior around Mr. Dearden was odd, that I sensed Mr. Dearden has some kind of hold over him."

„I remember."

„Well, as I was leaving the manor today, Father was raving about a meeting Mr. Dearden had demanded. A meeting to take place today. At Merlyn Manor."

„In light of the robbery it does seem odd that Malcolm would agree to such a meeting," the vicar admitted. „Still…"

„That's just it. Father obviously didn't want to agree to the meeting. I think he was just afraid to refuse Mr. Dearden. He referred to Mr. Dearden in a most biting manner, and implied that he loathed doing any business with him at all."

„Then why does he continue to do so?"

„Coercion, evidently. Mr. Dearden's."

„Malcolm said that?"

„He implied it, yes."

Lance was quiet for a long moment. „An untitled, uncelebrated colleague whom your father dislikes and distrusts, yet continues to do business with. A man you clearly found likable and trustworthy."

„Not only likable and trustworthy, but compassionate. I can't forget the way he rescued me from my Father's biting tongue." Felicity shook her head emphatically. „It makes no sense. Father describes Mr. Dearden as greedy and selfish. The man I met at the Stakes was anything but. Still, even if my assessments were wrong, greed and selfishness are qualities, Father generally applauds in his colleagues. Why not now?"

„I don't know, Snowdrop. Does it matter?"

A faraway look came into Felicity's eyes. „Yes, Vicar, it matters. My instincts tell me it matters a lot."


	6. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

The front door of Merlyn Manor—an interesting alternative to the parlor window.

Oliver stifled a sardonic grin, glancing about Merlyn's polished hallway—the same hallway where he'd crept through mere hours before, with valuables tucked in his coat.

„The marquis will see you in his study," announced the poker-faced butler.

„Will he? How very gracious of him," Oliver replied, the essence of polished congeniality. „Lead the way."

Moments later, he was ushered into a dimly lit, unoccupied room and abruptly left to his own devices.

_I'm being shown my place,_ Oliver determined with wry amusement. _Not only am I an undesirable, I'm an unwanted undesirable._

_So be it._

Pondering that thought, he helped himself to a brandy, chose his chair, and waited.

„All right, Dearden, I'm here." Merlyn strode into the study three quarters of an hour later. „I'm also very troubled and busy." He broke off, gaping. „What is the meaning of this?" he exploded, when he'd found his voice. „What the hell do you think you're doing?"

„Hmm?" Oliver lowered the newspaper he'd been reading, peeking at the marquis over his long legs, which were propped on the desk and casually crossed at the ankles. „Oh, hello Merlyn. Your timing is perfect. I've just finished my brandy. Would you pour me another?" He extended his empty glass.

„Why are you drinking my brandy? Sitting in my chair? At my desk. With your bloody feet up, no less." The marquis advanced furiously toward Oliver.

Like a tiger whose claim had been challenged, Oliver shot to his feet, his eyes blazing with rage. „Your desk? Your chair? Your brandy? Listen to me, Merlyn, and listen carefully. Nothing in this house is yours. I own it all: your possessions, your businesses, you. But for my good nature, you'd be living in the gutter, the very place you accuse me of coming from. Bear that in mind and don't antagonize me further. Should you or your servants ..." a lethal pause, „my servants—ever treat me in such bad manner again, I might be forced to lose my temper. And my compassion. Is that clear?"

Throughout Oliver's tirade, Merlyn's color had gone from pink to red to green. Now, he merely nodded, gritting his teeth as he snatched Oliver's empty glass and crossed the room to refill it.

„You've made your point, Dearden." He shoved the drink at his adversary, obviously struggling to check his escalating anger. „You'll have to excuse my ill humor. I'm out of sorts today. During the night I was robbed by that despicable Green Arrow Bandit."

„Were you?" Oliver's brows rose. „How intriguing. What did he take?"

„All Donna's jewelry, my silver, my cash box and notes, everything of value he could put his hands on. Why, he even took that lovely necklace of Felicity's you and I spoke of at the Stakes."

„The one you claimed was an inexpensive copy?"

Silence.

„Your family, are they all right?" Oliver continued after a brief pause.

„Naturally, they're very upset. Donna spent most of the day in her chambers and Felicity left here a few hours ago to go walking."

„Walking? Alone?"

„Only on the grounds of the estate," Merlyn replied with a dismissive wave. „She does it often. Lord alone knows what silly notions are filling her head. In any case, it's best for her not to be underfoot today. The authorities need as few distractions as possible. They are meticulously interviewing the servants, searching for clues."

„And have they found any?"

„None. The bastard left nothing behind. Except, of course, for one ruby, which was wrapped around a green arrow on my pillow. A ruby I'm certain he removed from the Viscountess Steelmoore's necklace."

„Was Steelmoore the bandit's most recent victim prior to you?"

„He was." Merlyn took out a handkerchief and wiped sweat from his face. „As I'm sure you've read in the sensational newspaper accounts, the bandit's trademark is to leave a jewel from his previous robbery at the scene of his current one. Unfortunately, that is the only clue he ever leaves. So far neither the constable, nor the magistrate has a hint as to the scoundrel's identity."

„I see. Peculiar, to say the least." Oliver shrugged, sitting comfortably on the edge of the desk. „Still, that doesn't change the fact that you and I have things to discuss."

„What things?"

„Your debts."

The marquis stiffened. „I was under the impression your solicitor was going to contact me to arrange a meeting away from Merlyn Manor and at a mutually convenient time."

„I changed my mind." Oliver sipped appreciatively at his brandy. „I can do that, you know. I'm the one holding your notes and your future in my hands. So, let's get right to the point, shall we?"

„What point?"

„When can I expect to be paid or when shall I toss you from your home and subject you to the public ridicule of bankruptcy?"

Merlyn's eyes narrowed. „You heartless bastard."

A muscle worked in Oliver's jaw. „A bastard, yes. But heartless? Coming from you, that's laughable."

„What is it you want?" the marquis demanded.

„Payment."

„No, this involves more than money, Dearden. What is it you really want from me?"

A glint of hatred darkened Oliver's eyes to near black. „More than you could possibly offer." He came to his feet. „But you do not need worry, I intend to collect in due time. For now, I'll expect my first payment by week's end."

„But that's impossible."

„Find a way. Should I not receive your money by Friday evening, I'll have no choice but to contact the London Gazette and have your name published for all to see. Then, I'll arrange for everything in this manor to be confiscated and everyone living here to be tossed into the cold night. Is that understood?"

„You filthy bast ..."

„Bastard," Oliver finished, his voice devoid of emotion. „And I believe we've already established the accuracy of that term. Now, as I was saying, you have until Friday. Or the actions I take will make your traumatic little robbery last night seem like a minor offense."

„Before you carry out your sordid threat, let me issue one of my own," Merlyn shot back, triumph blazing in his eyes. „I gathered a bit of personal data on you, just in case your strategy for buying my notes included blackmail. Should you even attempt to publicly ruin me, I will tell all the world that the wealthy, polished Oliver Dearden sprang from the womb of a workhouse whore."

Oliver went dangerously still. „I would suggest you never breathe my mother's name, Merlyn. Not if you want to live. As for the information your pathetically transparent investigators uncovered about my past, you can publish the details on the front page of the bloody London Times for all I care." Oliver cocked a brow, enjoying the look of shock on Merlyn's face. „Did you think I didn't know of your men's recent inquiries? I assure you, Merlyn, I know every arrangement you make, everything you do. As I said, I own you." Oliver's lips curved into a mocking smile. „You wasted your money, what little of it remains. I would have told you anything you wished to know, free of charge. I've never made a secret of my past—not my place of birth, or my unknown parentage. You had only to ask."

„Then I'll keep searching until I find something else," Merlyn roared, words of enraged impotence. „A lowlife such as yourself must have scores of reprehensible secrets. I won't rest until I find ..."

„Then you'll expire from exhaustion and have nothing to show for it." Oliver took a subtle, menacing step in Merlyn's direction. „Drop your investigations. You're squandering what is now my money. That angers me. Continue and I'll be forced to call in my debts that much sooner."

„Why are you doing this?" Merlyn exploded in frustration. „Why are you single-handedly purchasing all my notes? And why do you hate me so?"

„You'll have your answers when I'm ready to supply them. Not one moment sooner. And Merlyn," Oliver added with icy reserve, „if you ever attempt to blackmail me again, I'll ruin you without a backward glance."

The marquis drew a slow inward breath. „You're obviously far more cunning than I realized."

„One of the benefits of growing up on the streets." With bitter tact, Oliver set his glass on the desk and rose. „Good day, Merlyn. I'll expect my first payment Friday."

With deadly calm, he crossed the room and left.

Outside the manor, Oliver unclenched his fists and inhaled sharply, trying to dispel his tightly coiled bitterness. There was no record of what the marquis sought, just as there was no measure for Oliver's hatred. Merlyn didn't even recall the skinny urchin of eighteen years before. But then, why should he? To him, all workhouse children looked alike, were alike, fit for naught but abuse. Oliver has been just one of them; a nameless, faceless lowlife, common filth into the sea of lowlifes that defined the House of Eternal Hope. And, as the only witness to the marquis's corrupt exchanges with Blood, Oliver accepted that role gratefully, blending in, biding his time, anonymously plotting his vengeance.

At long last, Merlyn's undoing loomed near.

Heading for his waiting carriage, Oliver wondered for the hundredth time if killing the son of a bitch would prove more satisfactory and infinitely quicker than draining his funds and driving him to his knees. But, no. For all Oliver's crimes; the blood money he'd stolen, the indignities he'd rendered, he deserved a prolonged agony, far more heinous than death.

An unconscionable thought sprang from that reality.

How could Oliver destroy Merlyn without subjecting his family to the same devastating end?

Beside his carriage, Oliver came to a grinding halt. Averting his head, he scanned the woods instinctively for a sign of Felicity.

Suddenly, obsessively, he needed to see her.

„Ride to the main road," he advised his driver, already walking away. „I will meet you there shortly."

„Yes, sir." The driver urged the horses into a trot, and disappeared around the curved drive.

Cautiously, Oliver made his way through the trees, along the leaf-strewn paths, searching for the enigma who'd haunted his memories since the Stakes.

He was just about to try a different direction when he heard the muted sound of a stick snap.

Shading his eyes from the late-afternoon sun, Oliver assessed the area until he saw a moving spot of color by a small pond. Noiselessly, he followed it, then stopped in rapt fascination to watch.

Across the pond, Felicity was creeping along, silent and careful, her attention focused on a snake that was slithering forward, preparing to prey on an unsuspecting chipmunk. Slowly, Felicity approached, sidestepping sticks and leaves that might emit telltale sounds and reveal her presence.

Twenty feet away, she stopped.

Whipping a blade from beneath her skirts, she sent it sailing on ahead, watching as it landed directly between the predator and his prey. Startled, the chipmunk dropped the crumb of food it had been eating and darted off into the woods, leaving the snake and its threat far behind.

Satisfied with her work, Felicity rearranged her skirts and walked over to reclaim her blade. „That was beneath you," she informed the snake. „In the future, please choose targets that can adequately defend themselves. Else you'll answer to me."

„I don't know about the snake, but I'm certainly convinced."

Felicity started, dropping her knife and spinning about as Oliver approached her.

„Mr. Dearden!" She flushed, regaining her composure with great difficulty. „You startled me."

Oliver grinned, gazing down into her beautiful, flustered face. „I could say the same. That was the most admirable display of skill, execution, and approach I've seen in ages."

She gave him a tentative smile. „Thank you."

„Where on earth did you learn to throw a knife so adeptly?"

„I wasn't taught, if that's what you're asking," Felicity replied warily.

„An important skill." Oliver nodded his understanding. „I'm impressed. Am I to assume you exercise this ability frequently?"

Her smile faded. „You're mocking me."

„Never. I'm just curious why a well-bred young lady would need to carry a weapon when strolling the grounds of her estate."

„I ..." She averted her gaze, obviously uncomfortable with the question. „I walked a bit beyond the Merlyn estate. I generally do."

„Really? To where?"

„To the village." Impulsively, she leaned forward, clutching Oliver's coat as she went on in a rush. „No one but Mama knows of my visits there. Please, sir, I ask that you ..."

„I won't mention a word to anyone, especially to your father." Oliver covered her hands with his, strangely moved by her trust. „Why do you go to the village? To shop?"

„No. I visit a friend."

„A friend," Oliver repeated, his eyes narrowing. „Can't this friend come to Merlyn Manor?"

„Unfortunately not. Father detests him."

„Him?" A surge of jealousy coursed through Oliver's blood. „Your friend is a man?"

„A vicar. Mr. Lance. He's known Mama since she was a girl, and he's been my dearest friend for as long as I can remember."

„I see." Jealousy vanished, replaced by keen interest. „Why does your father hate the vicar?"

Sadness clouded Felicity's lovely face. „Many reasons. Too many to enumerate."

„So you travel to the church to see him. Alone."

„Not entirely alone," Felicity corrected. „I have my blade. Not that I've ever had occasion to use it. But the vicar worries incessantly about me. So I carry it in order to ease his mind."

„Your vicar sounds like a fine man." Oliver caressed Felicity's fingers gently. „Should you ever decide you need an escort to the village, I'd be happy to stand in for your knife."

Clearly moved, Felicity swallowed, staring at their joined hands. „Thank you, Mr. Dearden. I won't forget your kind offer."

Lord, she was beautiful. More so each time he saw her.

Wearing a simple beige day dress, her golden hair was adorably disheveled, insistently falling free of its pins. Like Felicity herself, it appeared unwilling to be bound by either ribbons or convention, and Oliver wondered if she knew how enchanting she looked, how badly he wanted to haul her into his arms.

He seriously doubted she suspected either.

„Are you on your way to meet with my father?" Felicity inquired, turning those mesmerizing eyes up to his.

„Actually, the marquis and I have concluded our business. I was on my way home."

„You walked to Merlyn Manor?"

„No. But I asked my driver to await me by the main road."

„Why?"

„Your father mentioned you were strolling the grounds. I wanted to find you."

„Oh. I see." Her eyes twinkled. „Your forthrightness again, Mr. Dearden?"

„Definitely." Oliver hooked a finger beneath her chin, caressing her lower lip with his thumb. „Your naiveté again, Felicity?"

She smiled, her lips curving against his thumb. „Evidently, yes."

„Do you know you have the most radiant smile I've ever seen?" Oliver's voice grew husky, his gaze fixed on her mouth. „And lips that are even softer than I imagined?"

That faint pulse began beating in her neck.

„You're not afraid of me, are you?"

„Should I be?"

Oliver shook his head slowly. „No." He smoothed his knuckles across her cheek. „Your skin feels like silk."

„Mr. Dearden ..."

„Hmm?"

„What business do you have with my father?" Felicity blurted out.

„Various dealings." Oliver freed his other hand, encircling his arm about her waist and urging her against him. „Do you know how badly I want to kiss you, Felicity?"

Her eyes grew wide with an intoxicating combination of fascination and uncertainty. „I … I don't ..."

„Intensly. So bad it's unendurable." He brushed her lips lightly with his. „I need to taste you. Will you let me?"

„You're asking me?" Her breath was tantalizingly warm against his lips, but Oliver could feel her tremble as she balanced on this new yet exhilarating experience.

„Yes, I'm asking you. I'd never take what you didn't willingly offer."

Wonder and something painfully similar to relief flashed in her eyes, softening Oliver's hunger into something achingly tender as it melded with a wave of blind protectiveness. He wanted to enfold her in his arms, shield her from anything or anyone who tried to harm her.

„Kiss me, Felicity," he whispered. „Let me show you how safe you can be."

A soft moan escaped her, and she nodded, lifting her mouth to offer him what he sought.

She had no idea how much he sought and how much he found in that kiss.

Rich, deep, more profound than the mere act itself, the kiss ignited slowly, exquisitely, like the growing embers of a fire newly kindled, radiantly aglow.

A hard shudder racked Oliver's body, and he wrapped Felicity closer, opening his mouth over hers in a poignant conveyance of desire, possessiveness, pain, and tenderness.

She was heaven.

That was his first coherent thought as the fire caught, spread, causing Felicity to lean into him, shyly pressing her palms to his chest, and kissing him back with an enticing blend of innocence and passion more seductive than the intimate acts of the most practiced courtesans.

Oliver heard himself groan, capturing Felicity's hands to bring them around his neck, deepening the kiss until she opened her mouth to his seeking tongue, whimpering as it stroked hers.

„Felicity." He said her name reverently, lifting her small, delicate frame up and into him until there was nothing between them but the hindering layers of their clothes.

Even those could not hide the hardening contours of Oliver's body.

Felicity tensed, tearing her mouth away and staring bewilderedly at Oliver.

He relaxed his grip, but didn't release her. „Don't be afraid," he murmured. „I told you, you're safe. I just ..." He swallowed convulsively, his vulnerability as unique and frightening as it was unsurprising.

As if sensing his raw emotions, Felicity laid her hand tenderly on his jaw. „I'm not afraid. Not really. I've just never felt such … done such ..."

„There's a powerful pull between us," Oliver replied soberly. „I feel it. And so do you."

„I don't deny it." She lowered her eyes to his coat.

„Have you ever been kissed, Felicity?"

Her cheeks turned pink, and she hesitated for so long that Oliver began to seethe, planning the demise of any other man who'd tasted her lips.

„No," she admitted at last, her voice tiny. „Not kissed."

She was remembering last night with the Green Arrow Bandit.

Oliver knew it, just as surely as he knew he wanted to wipe that memory from her mind, replace it with burning memories of him. Only him.

„Not kissed? What does that mean? What intimacies have you shared with a man?"

„None." Felicity started at the fervor of his tone. Misunderstanding its cause, she gave him a look of heartbreaking apology. „I suppose I'm even more naive than you imagined."

„You're perfect," Oliver informed her fiercely, angry at himself for inciting her self-doubt. He lowered her feet to the ground, his hands tightly gripping her waist. „What you're hearing is not disapproval. It's jealousy."

„Jealousy?" She gave him a quizzical look. „Why?"

„I don't want anyone's arms around you, only mine."

Felicity blinked. „Surely you're joking."

„Why would I be joking?"

„Because you're handsome, wealthy, charming, and very accomplished ...er, experienced." Her cheeks flamed. „You must have dozens of women eager for your attentions."

Oliver's chuckle vibrated through her. „Only dozens?"

„Are there more?"

„Felicity." He caressed the soft material of her gown. „I really don't give a damn about other women. As for your description of my assets ..." His smile grew wicked. „Thank you. I think. Now let me return the compliment, with the exception of the last item you mentioned. You're enchanting and sensitive and beautiful in every way, some of which are more important than the mere physical."

„So are you," she blurted out. „I'll never forget the way you rescued me at the Stakes. I was so absorbed in watching those desperate, hungry people, the bitter futility I could see on their faces, that I never heard my Father's introduction. Thank you."

So that was what had preoccupied her at the Stakes. Compassion for the poor.

Tenderness flared inside Oliver like warm wisps of smoke. „I don't want thanks, Felicity. I want you." He saw the panic invade her eyes, and read her thoughts easily. „I'm not afraid of your father."

„I know you're not. My guess is that he's afraid of you."

Oliver's brows lifted in surprised admiration. „Add astute to your list of attributes."

„Why, Oliver? Why is he afraid of you?"

„Say that again."

She shook her head in confusion. „Say what again?"

„My name. I like the sound of it on your lips."

A soft smile. „Oliver."

„Now let me taste it." He lowered his head, brushing his mouth back and forth across hers. „Say it now, when I can feel it, savor it, breathe it."

„Oliver."

It was an exquisite whisper of sound, and Oliver drank it in, deepening and lengthening the kiss until Felicity pulled away, breathless.

„You're impossible," she informed him. „And you're intoxicating."

Their gazes locked.

„Ask," he murmured.

„Your interest in me, is it because of your dealings with my father?"

Oliver's expression hardened. „No. It's despite my dealings with your father."

„You hate him. I saw it in your eyes during the race, and I see it again now. Why?"

„Many reasons. None of which I'm prepared to discuss yet."

„Is his title one of those reasons?"

A muscle worked in Oliver's jaw. „I have little use for the noble class."

„I was born of that class," Felicity reminded him.

„Born of it, yes. A part of it, no."

„Oliver," she said softly, her delicate brows knit with concern. „Father despises you. I can feel it when he speaks of you."

„I don't doubt it. Tell me, what does the marquis say about me?"

Chewing her lip, Felicity hesitated.

„He calls me a gutter rat, a lowlife, and a bastard," Oliver supplied.

„I don't believe ..."

„You should. Every word of it is true. I grew up in the streets and I haven't the faintest idea who sired me."

To Oliver's amazement, Felicity stood on tiptoe, clasping his forearms and brushing her lips to his chin. „The loss is your father's then. He has no idea what a fine son he's produced." A shadow crossed her face. „Moreover, your sire, whoever he is, could be no less admirable than mine. Trust me, don't underestimate the consequences of Father's rage. Be careful."

Oliver could barely speak past the constriction in his chest. Not only was Felicity accepting him without question or censure, but she was trying to shield him from harm. When was the last time anyone had worried for his safety?

„Your father can't hurt me, sweetheart," Oliver managed in a raw tone, threading his fingers through Felicity's hair. „But thank you for warning me. And for caring."

„You don't understand. Father can be violent when provoked."

Oliver went deathly still, his hands tightening in her hair. „Has he ever been violent with you?"

Silence.

„Felicity, does that son of a bitch strike you?"

„He's my father, Oliver."

A vicious oath exploded from Oliver's lips. „I'll kill him."

„I can take care of myself. Besides, this discussion is not about Father's behavior toward me. It's about his behavior toward you."

„You still defend him, regardless of the fact that he abuses you?"

„It isn't a defense, for there is none. It's … I'm not certain … loyalty, perhaps. Or duty."

„To a man who beats you?" Oliver shot back, incredulous. „Simply because he sired you?" He shook his head in furious incomprehension. „If being born in wedlock breeds such blind devotion to an unworthy scoundrel, then I'm delighted to be a bastard."

„I can't fault you for your sentiments," Felicity replied softly, lowering her eyes. „Neither can I alter mines. Worthy or not, the scoundrel you describe is my father, and I have no choice but to answer to him." She turned away. „I'd best return to the manor now, before darkness falls."

„Wait." Oliver came up behind her, caught her arms with gentle hands. „Forgive me. I had no right."

„I have the strangest feeling you have every right."

This was the moment he'd dreaded. „Suppose I was to tell you you're right, that I have a score to settle with your father that is older than you, deeper than you can fathom. Would you refuse to see me again?"

No answer.

„Felicity." He buried his lips in her hair. „I want you, but I won't lie to you. Not about my roots, nor about my hatred for your father. However, I also give you my word that I will never intentionally cause you pain. Are those declarations enough, or is what you feel for your father stronger than what you feel when you're in my arms? You'll have to tell me, for a lowly bastard such as I would have no knowledge ..."

„Stop it!" She spun about to face him, her exquisite eyes the blue-gray of a stormy sea. „Don't ever call yourself that again. I don't care how obscured your lineage is, you're not a bastard."

All Oliver's tension drained away, and he caught Felicity's face between his palms. „Your defense is almost as beautiful as you are," he murmured with a tender smile. „Thank you."

„You have nothing to thank me for. Your actions speak for themselves. Whatever your history, you're every bit a gentleman."

„Not every bit." Oliver's eyes twinkled as he lowered his mouth to hers. „For instance, a proper gentleman would never demand so scandalous a goodbye before allowing you to return to Merlyn Manor. I would."

„I see," Felicity acknowledged breathlessly. „Well then, an improper gentleman."

A husky chuckle rumbled from Oliver's chest. „What exactly is an improper gentleman?"

„The most fascinating sort … decent, excitingly unconventional."

„Ah." He nibbled lightly on her lower lip. „And could such a gentleman entice you to see him again?"

„Indeed he could."

Reflexively, Oliver's hand tightened about her nape. „Is that your answer then?"

„No." Felicity reached up and wrapped her arms around Oliver's neck, tugging his mouth down to hers. „This is."

Stifling a groan, Oliver gave Felicity what she sought, forcing himself to relinquish control of the kiss. He sensed how important this moment was, her first tentative emergence from the tightly woven cocoon she'd spun about herself. He gave only as much as she took, moving with her, tasting the trembling sweetness of her lips, fighting the urge to crush her in his arms and ravish her mouth with his own.

At last, he could take no more. „Go," he murmured. „It's nearly dusk."

Felicity nodded, her eyes aglow, her cheeks as triumphantly flushed as they'd been at the Stakes when she'd selected the winning horse. „You'll be back?"

„Without question." Stooping, Oliver retrieved Felicity's forgotten blade, placing it in her palm only after he'd kissed each of her fingers, the delicate veins at her wrist. „Nothing could keep me away," he promised, his gaze as unwavering as his purpose. „Nothing, and no one."


	7. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

The messenger shot to his feet the moment Oliver's carriage turned into the drive. Brushing his uniform free of the hour's worth of dust he'd acquired sitting on the stoop, he stood at attention, waiting for Oliver to appear.

With a puzzled frown, Oliver stepped down, mounting the front steps to his home.

„Mr. Dearden?" the boy inquired.

„Yes. What can I do for you?"

„I'm to give you this, sir." Efficiently, he extended a sealed note. „And to wait," he added.

„I see." Oliver glanced down at the unmarked missive. Tucking it in his pocket, he extracted a key and opened the entrance way door. „Come in."

The boy shifted uncomfortably, hovering in the hall as Oliver went into the sitting room to pour himself a drink. „I believe it's a matter of some urgency, sir," he called out at last. „At least that's what I've been told."

„Really?" Oliver emerged, sipping at his brandy. „And who told you this?"

„Mr. Diggle, Sir. The gentleman who sent me."

„Diggle?" Oliver cocked a surprised brow. John Diggle was a well known and prominent solicitor, a man who managed to overcome the circumstances of his birth and rose to a prominent occupation. The color of his skin was not an obstacle in his pursuit for a better future. And he became the most important local expert for the East India Company. With his exceptional expertise, he managed to make a name for himself in the cruel reality of England in the 19th century. He was no longer a 2nd class citizen like many of his brothers. Instead, he was trusted with handling much of the ton's legal dealings. And Oliver found nothing but respect for the man.

His curiosity aroused, Oliver set his glass aside and removed the missive from his pocket. „You said that Mr. Diggle asked you to wait while I read this?"

„Yes, Mr. Dearden. He did."

„Very well. You've stirred my interest." Oliver tore open the sealed envelope and unfolded the note.

_Mr. Dearden: I earnestly request that you travel to my London office as soon as possible. I do not make this request lightly and if it were not a matter of grave urgency, I would not presume upon your time. Please advise my messenger when I can expect you. Cordially, John Diggle._

After reading the note through twice, Oliver calmly refolded it. „How long have you been waiting for me to return home?"

„About an hour, sir."

Nodding, Oliver extracted a one-pound note and handed it to the lad. „Thank you for your efficiency and your patience. Tell Mr. Diggle he can expect me first thing in the morning."

„Oh, yes, sir." The boy beamed. „Thank you, sir. I'll tell him directly, sir." Bowing profusely, he quickly flew from the house, almost as if he were afraid Oliver would come to his senses and reclaim the outrageous sum.

Chuckling, Oliver returned to the sitting room, dropping to the sofa and tucking the missive back in his pocket. The day had turned out to be anything but dull. First, his ugly meeting with Merlyn, then his remarkable moments with Felicity, and now this intriguing message from Diggle.

Oliver wondered if Diggle was acting as Merlyn's agent and if the solicitor's urgently requested meeting had anything to do with the marquis's threats. If Diggle planned to produce a damning report of Oliver's workhouse history, he was going to be terribly disappointed with the reaction he received. And, Oliver reflected, he himself would have made a long trip for nothing.

Tomorrow would tell.

Closing his eyes, Oliver dismissed the forthcoming inconvenience from his mind, instantly replacing it with the image of a far more appealing subject: Felicity.

A satisfied smile curved his lips as he relived their encounter in the woods. Physically, emotionally, they'd reached a new level of involvement today, both of them embracing the pull between them as an undeniable force that neither denial or escape could change. Oliver's instincts told him that Felicity was as unaccustomed as he was to baring her heart, yet she'd opened up to him, shared thoughts, feelings, and intimacies he was certain she'd never shared with another.

And he?

He'd plunged one step deeper into a commitment he'd ever conceived of making.

She felt so bloody right in his arms, so natural and responsive. Like a newly opened flower, she'd opened to his touch, reaching trustingly for the promise of sustenance and warmth he offered.

He'd be damned if he'd scatter her.

Oliver slammed his fist into the cushion. Where was this leading? Where_could_ it lead?

Were it only to bed, he wouldn't feel this acute sense of alarm. Lust could be ...would be … tempered. His compulsion to shelter Felicity was more powerful than his craving to possess her. He'd protect her from everyone, even himself.

But he wanted so much more than her body, and he knew it. He wanted the rare and precious quality that was Felicity herself, the beauty she submerged, the fire she restrained, the compassion she stifled.

The spirit of adventure he knew he could induce.

It was there. He'd seen sparks of it. And so had the Green Arrow Bandit.

A wave of arrogance surged through Oliver as he evaluated the dilemma of his dual identity. True, Felicity was doubtless still enamored with her mysterious champion of the poor. But after today Oliver harbored not the slightest doubt that she was also captivated by Oliver Dearden.

That bloody bandit didn't stand a chance.

John Diggle rose when Oliver entered, gesturing for his clerk to close the door and leave them alone.

„Mr. Dearden." He extended his hand. „Thank you for traveling to London on such short notice."

Warily, Oliver shook the solicitor's strong hand. „Your message sounded quite urgent. And quite mysterious, I might add."

„I apologize for that. In a moment, you'll understand why the matter is both urgent and somewhat delicate. Please, have a seat. May I offer you some refreshment?"

„No, thank you." Oliver lowered himself into a chair. „Only an explanation."

„Very well." Adjusting himself in his seat, Diggle glanced down at the document on his desk. „Does the name Robert Queen mean anything to you?"

„Queen?" Oliver repeated woodenly, instantly flooded by waves of hateful memories.

„Perhaps by his titled name then," Diggle clarified, mistaking Oliver's silence for non-comprehension. „The Duke of Starling."

„Yes, I've heard of him."

Everything inside Oliver had gone cold. Heard of him? Starling was the one sketchy link to his puzzle, the one aspect of Merlyn's visits to the workhouse that Oliver had never quite understood.

Starling had accompanied Merlyn on almost every occasion, present at the covert meetings with Blood that Oliver continued to observe. But rather than actively participating in the division of illegal funds, Starling usually remained silent, aloof, as if he didn't give a damn about the money Merlyn was procuring for him. And when Merlyn went on a rampage, shouting his hatred towards the children, Starling would detach himself, strolling idly in the garden or wandering aimlessly about the building, surveying the occupants with dark, brooding eyes.

What was he seeking? Why was he there?

Oliver had tortured himself with those questions for years, both during his workhouse days and long after he'd left the hated walls behind. A decade before, when he'd begun actively plotting Merlyn's demise, he'd made some discreet inquiries into Starling's life. He'd learned nothing of what the duke's motives might have been for his workhouse visits, but he did learn that Starling's duchess had since died and that he'd recently lost his only child, his beloved son, in a riding accident, after which the late duke had become a recluse. Armed with that knowledge, vengeance had suddenly seemed unduly cruel, especially since, in Oliver's mind, Starling had been no more than Merlyn's passive companion. It was Merlyn Oliver despised, Merlyn was the one he intended to destroy.

But the unresolved questions persisted.

„Mr. Dearden?"

Oliver blinked, returning to the present, meeting Diggle's quizzical gaze. „Hmm?"

„Are you well? You look a bit green."

„I'm fine." Oliver's jaw tightened fractionally. „You were saying about the Duke of Starling?"

„Yes, well, the poor soul passed away several days ago. No one has been notified because, quite frankly, he hadn't any friends or known living relatives. In truth, he hadn't even ventured from his estate in more than ten years."

„I'm sorry to hear that. But what has it to do with me?"

The solicitor shifted uncomfortably. „More than you could ever imagine." He cleared his throat. „Anyway I phrase this, it's going to come as a shock."

„Then I suggest you merely state what you must."

„Very well." Diggle gripped the edge of his desk. „As of two days past, you are the Duke of Starling."

An awkward silence.

„Is this some kind of a joke?" Oliver managed at last. „Because I'm decidedly unamused."

„I assure you, Mr. Deard … er, Your Grace, this is no joke. If you'll allow me to ..."

„I'll allow you to nothing." Oliver was on his feet, striding toward the door. „You've obviously received some gravely inaccurate information. I didn't even know the Duke of Star ..."

„Did you know Moira Dearden?" Diggle asked quietly.

Oliver came to an abrupt halt. Turning, he stared at the solicitor through furiously narrowed eyes. „You'd better have a damned good reason for speaking my mother's name. She's dead. If you've been paid to sully her character ..."

„Cruelty is not my strength, sir. Neither am I so badly in need of funds that I would compromise my integrity. I assure you, no one has paid me to ruin your deceased mother. Quite the contrary, in fact. Now, will you sit and listen to what I have to say?"

Like a prowling tiger, Oliver crossed the room and lightly sat on the edge of the chair.

„Thank you," Diggle said, resettling himself and pointing to the pages in his hand. „I have here a letter and a legally binding addendum to the Duke of Starling's will. Several months ago, he summoned me to his manor, where he asked me to draw up the papers. I complied. It is my opinion that he meant to personally see you in order to reveal the contents himself. Unfortunately, he took sick shortly after the papers were executed, with an illness from which he never recovered. Therefore, you hear this information today for the first time."

„What information?"

„The late Duke of Starling was your father."

Father.

The word hits him like an avalanche, its odious shock waves crashing through Oliver in harsh, physical blows.

„The letter is written in the duke's own hand," Diggle was continuing. „I can attest to that. Of course, you're welcome to read it yourself, and the codicil as well, after I've had the opportunity to explain its terms and conditions. First, however, I'd like to clarify your true origins by recounting the details of the duke's letter." When he was greeted with nothing but silence, Diggle looked up, taking in Oliver's rigid jaw. „Are you all right, sir?"

„Go on," Oliver ordered through clenched teeth.

Diggle nodded, skimming the first page he held. „The duke met your mother about thirty two years ago in a London pub. It was a dismal time of his life. He was estranged from his duchess, embittered by the knowledge that she seemed unable to give him a child. Your mother was a young and beautiful tavern maid, filled with vitality, hope, and passion. Starling fell in love with her on the spot.

„Over the next six months he returned to the tavern, and Moira, as often as he could, casting protocol and consequence to the wind, following only the dictates of his heart."

„But consequence caught up with him," Oliver interrupted, the pieces falling rapidly into place. „He filled my mother's belly with his child, then cast her aside and returned to his rightful title, his rightful position, and his rightful wife."

Diggle nodded again, scanning that section of the letter. „Yes. Starling himself said that he was weak. Much as he loved Moira, he couldn't bring himself to sacrifice everything and endure ostracism and scandal. So he turned her, and their unborn child, away."

„But, try though he would, he couldn't forget them, neither would his conscience allow him to rest. After months of internal struggle, he went in search of Moira, only to find she'd lost her job and vanished. He panicked, and began an investigation of her whereabouts. It took months before he discovered her and the son she'd borne him living at the House of Eternal Hope. His intentions were to come forward to claim them.

„It was at that time his duchess announced she was with child. Needless to say, that altered everything."

„Needless to say," Oliver bit out, venom burning his throat.

„Starling had no choice but to commit himself to his wife and unborn heir. However, that didn't prevent him from worrying over Moira and their son. He sent money as often as he could … anonymously, of course … and prayed that it reached them."

„It didn't."

Diggle flinched at the hatred in Oliver's tone. „Then the duke received a report of Moira's death. At that point he knew he had to do more."

„More than what? More than allow her to waste away and die in a workhouse? More than condemn his son to hell?"

„He began making personal visits to the workhouse," Diggle responded. „The letter is vague about what explanation he gave the headmaster, but clearly no one knew his true reason for being there."

„Which was?"

„To check on his son … Moira's son." The solicitor lifted his gaze, blanching beneath Oliver's frigid stare. „You."

„How touching," Abruptly, Oliver rose, turning his back to Diggle. „And, having seen me, was he deeply moved? Did he make any attempt to free me from the prison I was living in?"

„He couldn't. If he had ..."

„If he had, everyone of importance would have known he'd fathered a bastard," Oliver supplied with brutal accuracy. „And that might have angered his duchess and compromised the position of his legitimate heir. Right, Diggle? Isn't that what you're saying?"

„Yes. That's what I'm saying."

Slowly, Oliver turned, his jaw violently shaking. „Had the duke's son not died in a riding accident, we wouldn't be having this conversation, would we?"

„Yes, I believe we would. Starling made it clear to me that, even had you not been his only heir, he was determined for you to know your true parentage."

„What a fine man. I feel infinitely better knowing I carry his blood in my veins." Oliver swallowed. „What else are you responsible for relaying to me before I walk out and dismiss everything you've said?"

„Sir," Diggle walked to the front of his desk, the document clutched in his hands. „I understand your shock, even your anger. But I don't think you understand what I'm telling you. You are the duke's only surviving child. Were it not for you, the Queen name would die along with your father. It is essential that you assume his title."

„Essential? I think not. No, Diggle, I decline the honor."

The solicitor gaped. „Have you any idea what you're refusing? The size of the estate you stand to inherit? How vast were the duke's wealth, his land, his influence?"

„I don't give a damn."

„But His Grace wished ..."

„His Grace wished?" Oliver exploded, advancing toward the disconcerted solicitor. „His Grace wished? What about my mother's wishes? What about my wishes? He condemned us to rot in a filthy, diseased workhouse without so much as a second thought. And now, with my mother cold in her grave, he wants to welcome me to his precious world? To acknowledge me as his son? Now that he himself is dead and gone, and the ensuing scandal can no longer hurt him? Now I'm to step forward and proudly assume the role of the Duke of Starling … because he wishes it?" Eyes ablaze, Oliver kicked a chair from his path, then veered toward the door. „My wish is for the filthy blackguard to burn in hell. And, if there is any justice at all, he already has. Good day, Diggle."

„There's more," the solicitor said quietly.

Oliver swung around. „Find another victim."

„Please, Mr. Dearden. I have yet to recount the terms and conditions I spoke of."

A harsh laugh erupted from Oliver's chest. „Terms and conditions? Don't bother. I've denounced the title."

„Please, sir. I beg you. My job is to relay the specifics of the addendum. What you choose to do about them is your concern."

Oliver sucked in his breath, struck by the truth of Diggle's plea. Starling's coldhearted negligence was not the solicitor's doing. „Very well, Diggle. Come to the conclusion of this nightmare."

„Thank you. The addendum states the following: In order to retain your newly acquired title and to permanently reap the benefits and privileges thereof, you must fulfill two conditions. First, you must not only accept the title of the Duke of Starling, but you must assume all related responsibilities for a minimum of two years. That means living in the Starling Manor, overseeing the estate and the servants, supervising the businesses ..."

„You've made your point. And the other condition?"

„Second, you must marry and produce a legitimate heir to the dukedom."

„A legitimate heir. In other words, not a bastard like me," Oliver clarified, bitterly precise.

„Correct."

„Tell me, Diggle, what if my duchess turns out to be as uncooperative a vessel as Starling's was? How many years did you say it took her to conceive? Or perhaps my duchess will be totally barren? Or, heaven forbid, she might bear me a daughter rather than a son. Have you considered that?" Oliver demanded mockingly. „What if I myself am incapable of fathering a child? It does happen, you know. Then what? All Starling's provisions will have been for nothing."

„The duke considered that. During my final visit to Starling he presented me with a sealed envelope, instructing me to lock it in my office strongbox, to be removed precisely two years from the day you accept your rightful position as his heir. At that point, should any of the circumstances you just described exist, I will contact you and reveal the contents of the letter, assuming, that is, you've fulfilled all your other obligations of a duke during the prescribed time."

„And if, over the two-year period, I do produce the necessary heir?"

„Then the conditions contained therein will be declared invalid, and I shall give the envelope to you, unopened, to do with as you wish."

„The son of a bitch thought of everything, didn't he?"

Diggle wet his lips. „To resume the addendum's terms," he pushed on. „During the two-year probation period you'll be granted a generous weekly allowance of ten thousand pounds."

„Ten thousand pounds?" One brow rose. „How charitable."

„Finally, once the two years have elapsed and presuming you've fulfilled both conditions, you are free to go back to your old life or continue your new one. In either case, you will have full access, within reason, of course, to the Starling funds, heirlooms, property, et cetera, for the rest of your life, and your son will be groomed as the future Duke of Starling."

„Lucky boy."

„Indeed," Diggle agreed, tactfully ignoring Oliver's cutting sarcasm. „No expense will be spared ..."

„How much do all these assets amounts to?" Oliver interrupted suddenly.

„Pardon me?"

„I want to know exactly how much my poor mother was being denied."

A pause. „If you're asking what the total worth of the duke's estate is, it's worth about twenty million pounds."

„Hell." Oliver raked furious fingers through his hair. „Bloody, bloody hell. If the spineless coward weren't already dead, I'd kill him myself."

„Nevertheless, now that you've heard all the facts, I'm certain you've changed your earlier decision."

„I've amended nothing." Oliver yanked open the door. „Tear up that bloody addendum, Diggle. I don't need or want one shilling from the scum who sired me."

„Think about ..."

„It's too late." Oliver stalked out without a backward glance. „Thirty years too late."


	8. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

Oliver had no idea how many trips his carriage has made around Town, nor how much time has passed since he'd stormed from Diggle's office. Pausing only to purchase a bottle of whiskey, he'd climbed into his carriage and ordered his driver to circle the congested streets until otherwise advised. Sliding to the far corner of the seat, Oliver then proceeded to toss off half the contents of the bottle while staring moodily out the window, his thoughts slamming against his brain like a hammer.

_He?_ A duke?

Never. _Never._

To hell with Starling. To hell with his title, his money, his name. To hell with …

His father.

Fortifying himself with another deep swallow of whiskey, Oliver forced himself to confront the situation and its consequences.

The Duke of Starling was his father.

All the pieces fit: his mother's talk of her nobleman lover, Starling's consistent, but inexplicable workhouse visits, the background details Diggle had just revealed.

The story was true. Oliver's instincts confirmed that without question. Much of it was also unsurprising. After all, he had always known of his noble lineage, just as he'd long ago discerned his sire's reasons for denouncing him and abandoning his mother. Having a name to put to the anonymous blackguard who'd sired him was unexpected, but not significant at this point in his life.

But having a lineage to accompany the name, especially Starling's lineage, now that was disconcerting. How vividly he recalled those brooding eyes, that air of reserve. God help him, he could even see the resemblance. Yes, now that he knew the truth, Oliver realized the likeness between him and Starling was startling.

But even that was endurable.

What was unendurable, unconscionable, untenable, was what the arrogant bastard demanded of him now.

After a lifetime of rejection, to become a son.

A shout from ahead brought Oliver up short. As he watched, a dirty boy of perhaps twelve darted down the street, weaving his way among the pedestrians and carriages, a wallet clutched in his hand. In his wake, a distinguished gray-haired gentleman waved his fist furiously, bellowing for the authorities, urging a small group of sympathetic onlookers to apprehend the culprit.

_They'll never catch him_, Oliver thought, mentally estimating the distance between the boy and the oncoming mob. _At least not if he's any good. If he knows what he's doing, in precisely twelve paces, he'll change course and run down to that tiny alley just shy of the corner. It's so narrow no well fed person can fit. By the time the crowd gives up trying, he'll have scaled the low wall at the alley's end and be long gone._

No sooner had Oliver assessed the situation than the boy came to a halt, changing direction and headed down the street. Five steps in he flattened his skinny frame against a brick wall and slithered down the nearly invisible alleyway.

Moments later, as Oliver's carriage rumbled by the cross street, the raging masses were still gathered at the alley opening, commanding the boy to emerge with the stolen wallet.

The boy was safe … this time.

Oliver leaned his head back against the cushion. How many times had there been for him? How many escapes had he made down that very alley, his heart pounding so furiously he feared it might burst? How many times he'd nearly been caught?

For the two years following his flight from the workhouse, he'd survived on the streets, picking pockets, making his bed with piles of rags, stealing crusts of bread from Covent Garden in the pre-dawn hours. How many nights had he lain awake, weak to the point of delirium, shaking so violently with cold and loneliness and dread that death actually would have been welcome?

But life had prevailed. At least for him. He'd always been one hell of a gambler, steered by infallible instinct as he bet on everything from when a particular winter's first snow would fall to who would receive the next whipping from Blood. At the workhouse, his stakes had been in goods. In the streets, they became money. No longer mere nourishment, but survival.

And he had survived, doubling and tripling his stolen pound notes with each successful wager, earning the respect of notorious thieves as he relieved them of their spoils, picking himself up from the hopelessness of his predicament.

Never forgetting that others hadn't been so fortunate.

How many children had died, were still dying, in London's thriving streets?

Lord, if he could only spare them that fate.

But even The Green Arrow Bandit's stolen jewels together with Oliver's acquired affluence weren't enough. Hundreds of thousands of pounds were needed to reach the vast number of starving people. It was so bloody frustrating. If only he had greater influence, greater wealth, greater access …

Reality exploded like gunfire.

He did. Or rather, he would as the Duke of Starling.

Suddenly all vows of "never" faded as the monumental truth struck home. For years he'd sought ways to help. Now the ultimate opportunity was being handed to him with but a few annoying stipulations impeding his path. And he was turning his back on it? Was he mad?

Squelching the bitter protests still clamoring inside him, Oliver forced himself to weigh the facts with unemotional objectivity.

He was being offered a dukedom and all its privileges.

His refusal was a result primarily of his pride and deep-seated anger. That, and the refusal of a way of life he abhorred.

The way of life … where was it written he had to imitate it?

If he'd learned anything from his years of poverty, he'd learned that titled wealth bred its own set of rules. Therefore, if the new Duke of Starling chose to mingle with undesirables, scandalously refuse the "right" invitations, and disburse his money in an unorthodox manner, who would dare challenge his eccentricity?

As for pride and anger, wouldn't his acceptance of the terms of the codicil appease both? After all, as the Duke of Starling he'd be accepted in the very houses he robbed, privy to the details of the aristocracy's latest acquisitions, their most valuable jewels. He'd hear firsthand who'd won at Stakes, played the highest stakes at White's, invested wisely and well.

Consequently, the Green Arrow Bandit could escalate his number of burglaries, taking the ton by storm and utterly annihilating their fortunes. By combining the bandit's spoils and his own allocated ten thousand pounds a week, Oliver could ensure that England's workhouses thrived.

Not to mention the sheer joy of flaunting his newly acquired blue-blood status in Merlyn's face and reminding the blackguard that a duke most emphatically outranked a marquis.

Yes, the final victory would indeed be Oliver's. What exactly would he be relinquishing? Two years of his life. Two years to live at Starling's wretched estate, run his businesses, direct his staff of servants. Two years to make his assets prosper.

Oliver lowered the bottle of whiskey thoughtfully. That task posed no foreseeable difficulty. After all, business ventures were his forte. He'd honed his investment skills over long, hungry years, ultimately earning a sizeable sum of his own. He'd make Starling's bloody fortune flourish. In fact, he'd leave it healthier than ever. Two years hence, Starling's assets would reach new heights, and his own commitment would be satisfied.

Not quite, Oliver reminded himself. In order to retain permanent access to the Starling fortune, he had also to produce an heir. A legitimate heir.

Which meant taking a wife.

Oliver frowned. The thought was distinctly unappealing. Given his double identity and his illegal missions, he needed his freedom. Hell, the Green Arrow Bandit notwithstanding, Oliver wanted his freedom. So whoever he selected as his duchess would have to tolerate his independence, at least for two years.

Two years? Oliver sat up with a start. Marriage couldn't be negated as easily as business ventures. Even if his wife were willing to go her own way once she'd completed her task, she would be bound to him forever, bearing not only his name, but his child.

Felicity.

Her image came as naturally as the vision of her by his side, and Oliver felt his heart lift for the first time since the day's madness had begun. Felicity … his wife, his duchess, the mother of his child.

An intrigued smile curved Oliver's lips. Perhaps the notion of marriage was not so unattractive after all, he mused, digesting this new and fascinating possibility. If he had to be permanently tied to one woman, who but Felicity could fill that role?

Would Felicity want to fill that role? Even with the powerful pull that drew them together, it was far too soon for her to have considered anything as significant as marriage. And while Oliver was worldly enough to recognize the rarity of what hovered between them, Felicity was young, inexperienced. So how could he expect her to comprehend the magnitude of what occurred when they met, spoke, touched?

He did know that she trusted him, reached out to him for a complexity of reasons too vast to put into words. She'd even taken a few tentative steps closer to the fire that blazed to life when she was in his arms.

But it still wasn't enough.

So, how would she react to the thought of becoming his wife? Now. Immediately. She'd be stunned. That was a certainty. But when the shock had subsided, when she'd had time to think, then what? Would she flatly refuse his proposal, or would she entertain the idea of becoming Mrs. Oliver Dearden?

Merlyn. What would he do?

Oliver's smile vanished. The son of a bitch would be furious. More than furious. His rage would be boundless; vented … how? By striking out at Oliver, or at Felicity?

Just the thought of Merlyn laying one of his contemptible hands on Felicity made Oliver's skin crawl. Clenching his fists, he cursed aloud.

By wedding Felicity he could take her from her father's brutality. He'd do it in a minute, with or without Merlyn's consent, if he were certain it was what Felicity wanted. But was it?

_I'll never take what you don't willingly offer. _Oliver had spoken that vow just yesterday as he'd drawn Felicity into his arms for the first time. He wouldn't break it. Not now, not ever. She had to freely choose to become his wife.

But was the fragile thread of feeling that had grown between them strong enough? Was Felicity strong enough to defy her father, knowing how much he loathed Oliver?

No. Not yet. There hadn't been enough opportunity.

But, dammit, there would be.

Abruptly, Oliver leaned forward. „Jones!" he called to his driver. „Head back to Diggle's office at once."

„Mr. Dearden. You can't just walk in there! Mr. Diggle is a busy man." The scrawny clerk, made one final attempt to block Oliver's path.

Sidestepping the man's flailing arms, Oliver flung open the solicitor's door and stalked in.

„Don't blame your clerk, Diggle," Oliver announced, dropping into a chair. „I intended to see you immediately. And nothing and no one was going to stop me."

„I see." Diggle said and jolting to his feet. „You may leave us, Carter," he told the clerk.

„Yes, sir." Carter mopped at his brow, sent an aggravated look in Oliver's direction, and walked out.

„I didn't expect to see you again, Mr. Dearden and certainly not so soon."

„I'm sure you didn't." Oliver folded his hands behind his head and began without delay „I have a few questions. First, how did Starling know I was capable of managing his funds?"

Diggle's eyes widened in surprise, but he answered without hesitation. "The late duke knew a great deal about you. He followed your life, at a discreet distance, of course, quite closely. Therefore, he was aware of your brilliant business investments and your equally brilliant mind. When he had me draw up the addendum, he was fully confident that his estate would be entrusted to the very best of hands."

„How flattering. Next question. You mentioned that once my responsibilities had been fulfilled I would have complete access, within reason, to the Starling funds. Define within reason."

Now Diggle's jaw dropped. „Does this mean you've reconsidered and intend to ..."

„Just answer the question."

„Very well. The only reason your father ...er, the late duke, added that phrase was to ensure that his family name and fortune remained essentially intact for his grandson."

„His grandson. You mean, my son?"

„Yes."

„In other words, Starling was afraid I would intentionally tarnish his name and squander his money?"

„The possibility occurred to him, yes."

„Which, in turn, would leave my son destitute, much the way Starling left me, correct, Diggle?"

Averting his gaze, the solicitor shifted from one foot to the other.

„He needn't have worried," Oliver continued icily. „Lowly bastard that I am, I possess far higher principles than His Grace ever had. I will assure my son every shred of security, both financial and emotional, that my sire denied me. The Starling estate, and the Queen name, will remain untouched."

„So you are reversing your earlier decision."

„I am."

„May I ask why?"

„For many reasons, few of which you would understand. Suffice it to say my conscience refused to permit my retreat."

„You understand the conditions I described?"

„I do. I also accept them. And to make your job slightly less untenable, I invite you to openly scrutinize my investments. You'll find each to be completely acceptable." A glimmer of a smile. „In this case, Starling was right. I'm damned good at what I do."

„I don't doubt it." Diggle's obvious relief was mixed with a touch of admiration. „And my scrutiny won't be necessary, although I thank you for your generous offer. Since I'll be meeting with you weekly to issue your ten thousand pounds, we can discuss the status of your assets at those times."

„As you wish." Oliver rose. „I have one request."

„Which is?"

„That I be given the right to announce my new-found status on my own."

„You're asking me to say nothing?"

„Precisely. Only for a day or two, until I can find the proper setting for my coming out."

Diggle stifled a chuckle. „Very well, Mr. … forgive me … Your Grace. Although I must say I'd hate to miss your grand proclamation."

„Then don't. In fact, as I'm new to all this, I could use a suggestion. Where is the next large, pretentious house party scheduled to take place?"

„The Viscount of Steelmoore is hosting an enormous gathering, complete with fox hunt and ball. It begins the day after tomorrow and continues for Lord knows how many days."

„Pity I don't have an invitation." Oliver cocked a pointed brow in Diggle's direction.

„This time the solicitor laughed aloud. „I admire your spunk, sir. As it happens, I do have an invitation. And I'd be delighted to have you accompany me as my guest. Would that interest you?"

„The viscount won't object, I presume?"

„Certainly not. At least, not once he learns who you are."

„That goes without saying." Oliver seized a quill from the desk. „I accept your kind invitation. Now, I presume there are documents I must sign?"

„Indeed."

„Then let's hurry the process along." Oliver's lips curved in amusement. „I have a legacy to see to."


	9. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

„We shall remain at Steelmoore's Ball for two hours, not a minute longer," Merlyn instructed Felicity and her mother as their carriage rounded the drive to Steelmoore's estate. „I'm in no mood for festivities. Unfortunately, I must endure the fox hunt tomorrow, as well as the dinner that follows it. But I will not a day beyond that. As for tonight's party, we'll take our leave the moment it is plausible for us to do so. Is that clear?"

„Perfectly clear, Malcolm," Donna concurred instantly.

„We could have sent our regrets, Father," Felicity pointed out. "Given our recent burglary, I'm sure the viscount would have understood."

„The viscount would _not _have understood," Merlyn snapped. „He himself was a victim of that bloody bandit less than a fortnight ago. The difference is, he has no noose hanging around his neck."

Felicity inclined her head quizzically. „What do you mean, Father?"

„Nothing! Just mingle, surround yourself with the right people, and hope that a never-before-met, wealthy nobleman becomes smitten with you."

„That's hardly likely, given that we are already acquainted with all the guests," Felicity replied, trying to fathom her father's uncharacteristic mood. He was neither volatile nor disdainful. Rather, he seemed nervous, uncommonly off balance, almost desperate. „Are you seeking a husband for me?" she tried.

„What?" Merlyn gave her a disoriented look.

„You mentioned my snaring a man's affections. I assumed ..."

„I don't give a damn if you wed or not, Felicity," he cut in impatiently. „Unless of course your betrothed arrives with a fortune he is eager to share."

So it was money. For whatever reason her father was worried about the funds. Why? He would be amply compensated for their stolen jewels. Had some other business loss occurred? One she knew nothing about?

She glanced at her mother, who shrugged and averted her head. Felicity sighed. She should know better. Donna stayed as far from the flame as possible.

„We're here," the marquis muttered. „Now remember what I said. Two hours. No more."

„Of course, Malcolm." Donna laid a soothing hand on his arm. „We'll retire early so you can be rested for the hunt."

Stepping down the carriage, they were ushered to the ballroom door and announced.

„Merlyn, welcome." The Viscount of Steelmoore made his way toward them. „And to your lovely wife and daughter, as well."

„Thank you, Steelmoore," Merlyn responded, instantly assuming his composed public persona. „We've looked forward to your party for weeks."

„I'm delighted to hear that." Steelmoore smoothed the ends of his mustache and bowed to the ladies. „Lady Merlyn, Lady Felicity, my home is at your disposal. Your rooms have been prepared and your bags taken there by my servants. Now, you have nothing to concern yourselves with but laughter and happiness."

„You are a most gracious host, sir," Donna smiled.

Gently, she took Felicity's arm. „Come, dear, let's find the ladies."

„Oh, Merlyn?" Steelmoore stayed him with his hand. „Before you join the party, I have news I believe you should hear."

Merlyn's brows rose. „Have you received further word on that lowlife who invaded our homes?"

„Hmm? Oh, the bandit. No, unfortunately, I know as little now as I did a fortnight ago. Perhaps later in the evening we can compare our sordid stories and together deduce the scoundrel's strategy. But, no, the news I refer to does not concern the bandit: It concerns Starling."

„Starling?" Merlyn had expected anything but this. „Has he finally emerged from his estate? I haven't seen or heard from him in years." Merlyn glanced beyond Steelmoore, into the crowded ballroom. „Is he here tonight?"

„Hardly. He's dead."

„Dead?" Merlyn started. „When?"

„Nearly a week ago, from what I understand. No one seems able to supply many details. As you'd suspect, he'd died alone."

„I'm sorry to hear that. Not only because of Starling's passing, but because, as his son is also gone, the Starling line has reached its end."

„True." Steelmoore shook his head. „Its a pity. One's name means so much." He cleared his throat. „Which reminds me, I had occasion to ride into the village two days past, and I happened to see your daughter."

„Felicity?" A warning spark ignited Merlyn's blood.

„Yes. I must admit, I was surprised. I distinctly recall you mentioning that you'd forbidden her from visiting that peculiar vicar who so generously disperses our funds to the poor."

„You saw her conversing with the vicar?"

„I did. They were taking tea in his garden." Steelmoore averted his head, his attention captured by a group of men gesturing for him to join them. „You'll have to excuse me, Merlyn. I'm being summoned. We'll continue our talk a bit later." He leaned forward conspiratorially. „As for your daughter, may I suggest you use a heavier hand? It might ensure her obedience."

Merlyn didn't reply. He waited only until Steelmoore had moved off. Then he acted.

Donna and Felicity were but twenty feet away. He reached them in three strides.

„Come with me." His fingers bit into Felicity's arm. „Now."

Felicity flinched, her eyes widening with fear as she saw the rage on her father's face.

„Malcolm, what is it?" Donna asked in a quivering voice.

„Stay out of this, Donna," he commanded. „I intend to have a private talk with our daughter. Immediately. And I suggest" … he turned blazing eyes on Felicity … „that she not make a scene."

„Very well, Father." Felicity's mind was already racing, desperately trying to envision what damning information her father had just gleaned. Her hands shook violently as she gathered up her skirts and followed him to a deserted sitting room down the hall.

„You were with that bloody vicar again," Merlyn ground out the moment he'd closed the door. „How many times have I forbid you to go there? How many times have you disobeyed me?" He began to advance toward Felicity, his rage terrifying in its intensity.

Felicity's heart began slamming against her ribs.

„It was only for a few minutes, Father," she began.

„Liar!" His palm struck her face, and she cried out, instinctively pressing her fingers to her cheek.

„I'm not lying," she whispered, backing away. „I was at the church for a mere quarter hour."

„That's a quarter hour more than you're permitted." The marquis lunged forward again, slapping Felicity so hard she lost her balance and toppled to the couch. „Damn you! I'd beat you within an inch of your life if we were at Merlyn Manor."

„Please, Father." Felicity crept to the far corner of the sofa, frantically trying to think of words to appease him.

An insistent pounding at the door rescued her.

„Merlyn? Merlyn are you in there?" The Viscount of Steelmoore's voice accompanied his determined knock.

Glowering at Felicity, Merlyn crossed the room and yanked open the door. „I'm in the midst of a discussion with my daughter, Steelmoore."

The viscount nodded his understanding. „I apologize for intruding. But a most intriguing situation is in the process of unfolding. Diggle just arrived, bringing an uninvited guest, who, according to our solicitor, has an important announcement to make. He's requested that everyone join him in the ballroom."

„Very well," Merlyn agreed with a reluctant glance over his shoulder. „I'll be there directly." Closing the door, he waited until Steelmoore's footsteps had faded. Then, he whirled about. „We are not finished, Felicity. Your defiance will be dealt with … severely dealt with … when we arrive home. Until then, make yourself rare." Eyes narrowed, he scrutinized the red welts on her cheek, which had already begun to swell. „The marks of my discipline are unfortunately quite visible this time. You will not embarrass me further. Go to your room. And remain there until tomorrow when we take our leave. I shall tell your mother you're not feeling well and are in bed." He reached for the door handle once more. „We'll resume your punishment at Merlyn Manor."

The slam echoed behind him.

Long moments passed before Felicity rose, drawing a few steadying breaths to compose herself. Fate had granted her a temporary reprieve, and she was profoundly grateful for it. The thought of staying in her assigned chamber, far away from her father's rage, was pure bliss. Oh, she'd bear the brunt of his beating once they returned home, but perhaps by then the edge would be off his anger, and her back would not be as badly whipped.

She'd face that ordeal when she had to. For now, all she wanted was the sanctuary of a quiet room, a soft bed, and her private thoughts.

Creeping into the hall, Felicity assured herself that it was empty. Evidently, all the guests had gathered in the ballroom for the grand announcement Lord Steelmoore had spoken of.

Weak with relief, Felicity was about to walk toward the guest quarters when she spied Mr. Diggle in the ballroom entrance way, leading a tall, starkly handsome man into the ballroom.

Oliver Dearden.

For an instant, Felicity was convinced her eyes deceived her. What on earth would Oliver Dearden be doing at the Viscount of Steelmoore's ball? He who detested the nobility and all they represented. He couldn't be the bearer of the mysterious proclamation. It was impossible.

But there was no mistaking that bold, assessing stare, that confident walk, those meltingly hard good looks.

It was most emphatically he.

Curiosity overshadowing pain, Felicity tiptoed down the deserted hallway, straining to hear the grand announcement Oliver was apparently about to make.

„Well, hello, Merlyn," Oliver's deep voice reached her ears. „I'm delighted to see you here tonight."

„Dearden!" Her father's muffled response sounded stunned … and frightened. „You're Diggle's guest?"

„Indeed I am. For tonight only. After which, invitations can be forwarded directly to my estate."

„Your estate? What the hell are you talking about?"

„You're about to find out." Oliver's tone was mocking.

Oliver peeked around the corner and into the ballroom in time to see Oliver walk away from Diggle and her father, toward the crowd of questioning faces. „Mr. Diggle was kind enough to invite me here tonight so that I might share my extraordinary news with all of you at once."

A hum of speculation arose among the guests.

„As most of you know, the Duke of Starling passed on recently, alone and presumably without an heir." Oliver's arresting gaze swept the room. „I'm here tonight as the duke's sole living heir … the newly named Duke of Starling."

Stunned silence prevailed, hovering for a full minute before exploding into loud exclamations of astonishment and wonder.

„It's all quite true," Diggle interjected. „I myself drew up the addendum to the late duke's will. Mr. Dearden..." he broke off, coughed discreetly, „His Grace … is Starling's sole surviving son."

Hundreds of people seemed to swarm around Oliver at once, but Felicity was aware of only two things: her own anguished surprise, and the look of sheer terror on her father's face.

The strings resumed playing, the guests broke into small, gossiping groups, and suddenly Felicity realized how vulnerable her position was. How long did she expect to remain undetected? Any moment someone was bound to stroll into the hallway and see her.

Reversing her steps, she slipped back toward the guest chambers.

For what purpose? To sleep?

That question brought her up short. After this latest shocking revelation, sleep would be an impossibility.

Acting on impulse, Felicity slipped into the morning room, then out the door leading to Steelmoore's fragrant gardens.

Here, she could be alone with her thoughts. Oliver, the Duke of Starling.

She pressed her fingers to her temples, trying to sort it all out. What would this mean? How long had he known? Would this change him, his priorities? Why hadn't he told her at their encounter in the Merlyn woods? What did he want of her? Was the announcement of his title related to the mysterious hold he had over her father?

„Here you are. I thought I'd have to tear down the manor in order to find you."

Felicity whipped about to see Oliver leaning against a tree, watching her intently.

„I had no idea you were looking for me, Mr. Dearde … pardon me, Your Grace."

„So, you did hear my announcement. I thought I caught a glimpse of you in the hall." Slowly, Oliver strolled toward her.

„Yes. I heard." Felicity bowed her head and turned away.

„You must have many questions."

Silence.

„Ask them."

To Felicity's dismay, hot tears filled her eyes. „I … I don't know where to begin."

„You can begin by looking at me." Gently, Oliver turned her around, framing her face between his palms.

Felicity flinched.

„Felicity?" Questioningly, Oliver raised her chin with his thumb and took in her swollen cheek. Thunder erupted on his face. „That filthy son of a bitch. I'm going in there and kill him."

„Oliver ...don't. Please. Not for me." Felicity grabbed his arm. „I can't bear any more violence tonight. I just can't." Her defenses crumbling, she relented, letting the scalding tears course down her cheeks. „I can't bear any more."

„You don't have to." Instantly, Oliver enfolded her in his arms, pressing her wet face to his waistcoat. „I'm here, sweetheart. I'm right here. You don't have to endure it alone anymore."

Felicity melted into his strength, unable to refuse these few moments of comfort, the joy of feeling Oliver's arms around her. „How could you be a duke?" she wept.

Oliver kissed her hair. „That sounds more like an accusation than a celebration," he noted dryly.

„But you loathe the nobility."

„I do, don't I?"

Pulling back, Felicity stared up into his eyes. „Yes. You do. Still. Even now. Then why are you joining its ranks? And why did you lie to me about who you are?"

„I never lied to you. Everything I told you was true. I grew up in the streets. I am a bastard. Until the day before yesterday, I had no idea who my father was."

Felicity's damp eyes widened. „He didn't tell you himself?"

„No. Evidently, the late duke never felt the need to impart that tidbit of information to me. He let Diggle do it. In fact, my esteemed sire had no use for either my mother or me while he lived. But now that he's dead, he needs someone to accept his precious title, a title that would otherwise be extinct. Thus, his bastard must be validated ..."

„I told you never to refer to yourself that way." Felicity lay her palm on Oliver's jaw, wanting somehow to ease his pain.

Oliver turned his lips into her hand. „I've missed you," he murmured. „And I still want to kill your father."

„You wanted to kill him long before you discovered he struck me. Why?"

„We have quite a history together, the marquis and I."

„Did he know you were Starling's son prior to tonight?"

„Judging from his pallor after I made my announcement, I would say no."

Felicity lightly stroked Oliver's mouth. „You're telling me the truth, aren't you?"

„What do you think?"

A small smile. „I think you're exceedingly good at stopping a lady's tears."

Oliver's expression grew tender, his eyes hauntingly vulnerable. „Felicity, I need to hold you, to reaffirm all I feel when you're in my arms."

„I need that, too," she whispered.

They acted at the same time, fitting together as perfectly as two interlocking pieces of a puzzle. Oliver's mouth closed over Felicity's with poignant desperation, seeking something too profound to express, offering something too long denied. This time Felicity didn't hesitate, but wrapped her arms about his neck, giving him all he needed, reaching for the wondrous blend of passion and comfort she found only with Oliver.

For long, exquisite moments they kissed, deep, hungry kisses that satisfied one craving, created another.

„Open your mouth to me," he commanded softly, threading his fingers through her hair. „Give me more of you."

Felicity complied at once, parting her lips, shivering as Oliver's tongue invaded her mouth, stroked hers with bone-melting possessiveness.

„Am I frightening you?" he murmured.

„No."

„Shall I stop?"

„No." Felicity shook her head, pressing closer, wishing she knew how to convey all she was feeling. Oliver seemed to know.

He lifted her against him, kissing her until she was breathless, melding their tongues, their breath, the fire in their souls. Then, in a whisper of motion, he gentled the caress, lightly brushing his lips across the angry welts on her cheek, showing her without words that he shared her pain.

„Oh, Oliver." Felicity's eyes slid closed, emotion clogging her throat.

„Trust me, Felicity," he breathed into her hair. „Let the magic between us happen."

„I do trust you. Lord knows why. I don't know a thing about you. Nonetheless, I trust you."

His lips feathered across her forehead, the bridge of her nose. „You know many things."

„What do I know?" she countered. „Only of your questionable roots, which matter nothing, at least not to me. What I care about is the man you are today. Who are you, Oliver Dearden?"

„Other than a duke, you mean?"

„Don't mock me.

„Never." He gathered up handfuls of her golden tresses. „Your hair glistens in the moonlight."

„And you're avoiding my question."

He chuckled. „So very astute. You, my beautiful Felicity, are a constant source of wonder."

„And you are a constant source of mystery. I've given you my trust. Can you not give me yours in return?"

Oliver's smile faded. „You have no idea how difficult it is for me to contemplate the idea of trust."

Slowly, Felicity nodded, seeing years of suffering reflected in Oliver's blue eyes. „Yes, I believe I do." Unconsciously, she caressed his nape. „You say you grew up in the streets. How did you survive?"

„By my wits and my will to live." His arms tightened about her, as if he feared his answer might drive her away. „Are you certain you want to hear this?"

„I'm certain."

He held her gaze. „I grew up in a workhouse. I ran away when I was twelve, confident that even the gutter would be better than the hell from which I'd escaped. I was wrong. For two years I slept in deserted alleyways, picking pockets and stealing fragments of food to eat. After that, I took to the road. I've wandered ever since."

A hollow ache pervaded Felicity's heart. „You must have been so frightened—and so very strong. Dear God, Oliver, what devastating obstacles you've overcome."

„Don't call me a hero. I was a thief."

„You were a child," she replied softly. „A lonely, terrified boy. You stole only to live."

Oliver's jaw tightened, a private spark lighting his eyes. „I enjoyed every minute of stealing noblemen's riches. I still do."

„What did you say?"

Instantly, Oliver stiffened, pausing for a heartbeat to search Felicity's face. „I'm a gambler," he resumed smoothly. „Which, in the opinion of many, is no better than a thief."

Felicity ingested his reply, carefully weighing her own. „I thought you made your fortune investing in profitable business ventures?"

„Is that not the definition of a gambler?"

Her lips curved. „I suppose it is."

„I've gambled since I could walk, and discovered almost as quickly that I was damned good at it."

„Was that the instinct you spoke of at the Stakes?"

„Precisely." Oliver steeled himself. „Have I frightened you off?"

„On the contrary. I'm awed by your self-assurance and your strength of character. I wish I possessed them."

Oliver's fingertips drifted up and down Felicity's waist. „I don't think you have any idea how precious you are."

She shivered. „I like when you show me."

„Ah, Felicity, if you only knew how much I want to show you," he murmured, capturing her mouth under his.

The kiss went on and on until, weak with reaction, Felicity pulled away.

„You're like fire," she confessed breathlessly when she was able to speak. „You seep into my blood, lure me close to the flames, but at the same time I'm terrified of being burned."

„I'll never burn you, love. You have my word."

„Oliver." She pressed her forehead to his shirt, wishing the security she felt could last forever. „This can't happen."

„It already has."

„Then it can't continue. There are too many obstacles."

„Damn the obstacles. They're all meaningless. All but one." He raised her chin, carefully avoiding her bruised cheek. „Do you want this to happen? Do you want it as much as I do?"

„You must know I do," she whispered.

„Then it will happen. I'll make it happen. All I needed were those words."

„But my father."

„I'll handle your father."

Felicity inclined her head. „Will you tell me what's between you?"

„Hatred."

„Why?"

A pause. „Felicity, you said you trusted me, did you not?"

She nodded.

„Then trust me to tell you when the time is right."

„Very well, Oliver. I'll try." Another pause as Felicity grappled with her questions. „There's a reason you want this title, isn't there?" she blurted out.

„Yes."

„And would the reason be my father, or is it something more?"

Oliver frowned. „Both."

Again, Felicity studied his face. „Whatever you plan to do, it requires the late duke's money and influence, doesn't it?"

„Yes."

„Is that reason my father, or is it something more?"

„Yes."

„And you're not going to tell me what that plan is, I presume?"

„Felicity, I've already told you far more than I've ever told another."

„Another woman?"

„Another person." Despite the magnitude of their exchange, Oliver shot her a wicked grin. „You're jealous. I like that."

Laughter erupted inside her. „And you're incorrigible."

Even as the retort left her lips, amazement registered on her face.

„Don't look so surprised," Oliver said softly, tracing the curve of her shoulder with gentle fingers. „There's a whole other Felicity inside you, one who's bold and daring and impulsive. I intend to coax that Felicity from her protective shell, to call forth her pride, her courage, but most of all, her smile."

Felicity's eyes grew damp. „How do you know me so well?" she whispered. „And after so brief a time?"

„The same way you know me. Here." Oliver pressed her palm to his shirtfront, let her feel the beating of his heart.

„I'd best go in," Felicity managed, wanting only to melt back into his arms. „My father thinks I'm in bed, where he'll expect me to stay until we leave for Merlyn estate the morning after next."

All the gentleness in Oliver's eyes vanished. „Why did that blackguard hit you tonight?"

She lowered her gaze.

„Felicity, tell me."

„Evidently he discovered I'd visited Mr. Lance this week."

„He beat you because you visited the vicar?" Oliver asked in revulsion.

„Father detests the vicar, spurns all his beliefs," Felicity explained. Sighing, she added, „I, on the other hand, share them. I can't stop trying to help, to ease the pain of those who have nothing. Not even for Father." She shuddered. „Not even to stop his beatings."

„Surely your vicar must know of your father's brutality?"

„He does, only too well. But I won't let him interfere. It would endanger his position in the parish, and resolve nothing. By law, I am under my father's rule."

Oliver's lips thinned into a grim line. „Tell me, what does Mr. Lance say when you arrive at his church with bruises such as these?" He cupped her chin between his palms.

Fondly, Felicity smiled. „He says, 'Don't come here any longer, Snowdrop. The Lord knows how much you care. But neither He or I can bear to see you hurt."

„Snowdrop?"

„Does he?" Oliver threaded his fingers through her hair, bent to kiss her cheeks, her lips, the sensitive pulse in her neck. „Well, your vicar is right. But only in part." Nibbling at her ear, Oliver murmured, „Snowdrop? Perhaps, but so much more. Snow flame. Now that's a better choice. Delicate and untouched as snow, burning with an inner fire only I can elicit. Yes. Snow flame. With all the spirit and determination of a snowdrop and all the passion, the multifaceted beauty of a flame." He sought her mouth. „My extraordinary Snow flame."

„Oliver." She melted against him, an unfamiliar heat coursing through her in wide rivers of sensation.

„And you said I was fire," he breathed, burying his lips in hers.

This time it was he who ended the kiss, gasping as he fought for control.

„Did I do something wrong?" Felicity asked in a ragged whisper.

„Never. If you were any more right I'd lower you to the grass here and now and make love to you."

Felicity blushed.

„Do you find that notion upsetting?"

Her chin came up, her eyes wide with disbelief. „Do I find what notion upsetting?"

„The notion of me making love to you."

„Is it proper for you to ask me such questions?"

„No." Oliver's smile was devilish. „But I'd like an answer nonetheless."

Her own lips twitched. „Very well. No, I don't find the notion of your making love to me upsetting. In fact, although I'm not certain of all the nuances involved, I find the notion terribly appealing."

Something tender and profound flashed in Oliver's eyes. „So do I, my beautiful Snow flame. So do I."

Muffled laughter drifted from the manor, and far away the strings struck up another waltz.

„It suddenly occurs to me," Oliver noted, his arms still around Felicity's waist, „that I have yet to enjoy my first dance as a duke."

„Oh." She shook her head, disoriented. „I suppose that's true."

„I'd hate to waste skills I so painstakingly learned once I became a law-abiding businessman. Wouldn't you agree?"

„I suppose so."

He pressed his lips to her forehead. „Then, may I have the honor?"

„Oliver, I can't return to the ball. My father ordered me ..."

„Who said anything about the ball?" Oliver released her, stepping back to execute a formal bow. „I'd prefer my first dance to take place privately, with the glow of the moon above me, the fragrance of the garden surrounding me, and the feeling of you in my arms." He held out his hand. „May I have this dance, my lady?"

Her heart pounding wildly, Felicity sank into a curtsy. „I'd be delighted, Your Grace." She placed her fingers in his.

Had she ever danced before? Felicity thought not.

Certainly she'd gone through the motions. But nothing could match the sheer wonder of floating about the garden with no impeding crowds, no harsh lights, nothing but pleasure and freedom … and Oliver.

„Are you happy, Felicity?" he asked, whirling her toward him.

Wordlessly, she nodded. „You're a splendid dancer, Your Grace," she managed, praying Oliver would understand the magnitude of what she couldn't put into words.

He did. „And you're a breathtaking partner, my lady." Coming to a halt, he pressed her palm to his lips.

„I wish we could stay here all night," she blurted.

„As do I. But I don't want the marquis to discover you're not abed. Then he'd be forced to lash out and I'd be forced to kill him."

„Oliver."

„Go, love. Before I forget I'm reputedly now a gentleman." His tone was mocking.

„Will you be all right?"

„I? You're the one who's been hurt."

„There are many different kinds of wounds," Felicity replied quietly. „Some are worn on the surface. Others are not."

„True." He didn't pretend to misunderstand. „And, to answer your question, yes, I'll be fine. I always am."

She stood on tiptoe and kissed him. „I'll pray for you."

Oliver's muscles tightened beneath her fingers. „What did you say?"

„Only that I'll pray for you."

„And if I were to tell you I don't believe in prayers?" Felicity smiled, resting her hand over Oliver's heart.

„Then I'd say, fortunately for you, I do."


	10. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

„Welcome, Your Grace."

The uniformed gatekeeper bowed, then moved to swing Starling's iron gates wide, admitting the carriage of the new duke.

„Thank you," Oliver returned. Leveling his gaze straight ahead, he coolly assessed the hundreds of acres of land that now belonged to him.

„Impressive, wouldn't you say?" Diggle inquired, watching Oliver's unchanged expression.

„The land itself? Or the fact that I control it?"

„Both."

„Then my answer is yes and no. Yes, the land is impressive. Only a fool would remain unawed by its splendor. As for my controlling it, that I owe to an accident of fate. I neither earned it myself, or came upon it through cleverness or cunning. Therefore, I feel little pride in the knowledge that it is mine."

Diggle shook his head in amazement. „You constantly astonish me, Dearden … er, Starling."

That declaration brought out the satisfied gleam Diggle had expected when Oliver first inspected his land. „Do I?" Oliver flashed him a broad grin. „Now that is a tribute to my skill. Rendering people off balance is a particular talent of mine, one of which I am quite proud." He leaned back in his seat. „As for your uncertain form of address, let me ease your quandary. I've been Oliver Dearden for thirty years. I intend to remain Oliver Dearden."

„Your family name is Queen," Diggle protested.

„My father's name was Queen. Mine is not. However, that is irrelevant for, if my pitiful education serves me correctly, I can henceforth expect to be addressed as either Starling or Your Grace. Isn't that right?"

„It is."

„Then you call me Dearden. Or Oliver, my given name."

„But as you just pointed out ..."

„Why not dare to be different?" Oliver cocked a challenging brow in Diggle's direction. „Or are you too steeped in the ton's rules to risk it?"

„What does that mean?"

„I like you, Diggle. I think you're a decent, honorable man. I also think you're so dull it tires even you."

„Well, I ..." The solicitor looked totally flabbergasted.

„Tell me the truth." Oliver leaned forward. „Don't you ever contemplate what it would feel like to break all those rigid rules within which you live? To do precisely what you want to do, say what you wish to say?"

„And lose the business of every noted gentleman in England."

„A few, perhaps. But most would stay. And do you know why? Because the highborn would be forced to give you something more than just their business, something that would ensure you their backing for life."

„Which is?"

„Their respect."

An instant of silence, broken by Diggle's shout of laughter. „You're teaching me to be a gambler."

„No. I'm teaching you to be your own person." Oliver's lips twitched. „And to be a good gambler."

Growing sober, Diggle studied Oliver for a long, thoughtful moment. „I serve the wealthiest, most renowned noblemen of the _ton_," he mused aloud. „They pay me a great deal of money, rely heavily upon my legal skills, include me in their social gatherings. Yet, for the life of me, I cannot think of a single one of them I'd choose to call friend." He shook his head and grinned. „You are by far the most irreverent, unconventional rebel I have yet to meet, the utter antithesis of those whose company I customarily keep." His grin widened. „But, hell and damnation, I like you, Dearden. You might be just the fire a man like me needed."

Fire? Oliver smiled. That was what Felicity had called him last night in the garden. Well, if he were the fire, she was the spark that ignited it.

„Dearden? Have I offended you?"

„Hmm? No, of course not." Oliver temporarily relinquished last night's memories. „If anything you've cheered me by proving I was right about you. Think of what we can teach each other: you can keep me on the proper ducal course and I can teach you to take risks, to venture from your narrow world on occasion."

„The manor is straight ahead," Diggle interrupted, pointing. „Have a look."

Quietly, Oliver scrutinized the imposing Gothic structure, thinking it was much as he'd expected it to be: palatial in size, devoid of warmth, a series of gray turrets and spires amid colorful, carefully manicured gardens.

„Magnificent, isn't it?"

„Actually, I prefer my own residence."

„Dearden, your lodgings in Wellingborough could fit into Starlings's morning room."

„True. But the warmth and comfort of that modest abode are worth more than all of Straling's grandeur. Trust me, Diggle. To a man who's spent most of his life on the streets, home is a gift to be treasured."

Diggle cleared his throat awkwardly. „Forgive me. I didn't mean ..."

„No forgiveness is necessary," Oliver assured him in a matter-of-fact tone. „I was merely pointing out that magnificence is a relative term."

„Agreed." Diggle adjusted his waistcoat as the carriage rounded the curved drive and stopped before the entrance way doors.

Barely had the horses come to a halt, when the manor doors were flung wide and a bevy of footmen scurried out to transport the duke's luggage to his new quarters. One tall, dignified man in uniform remained at rapt attention in the doorway, presumably awaiting his master's entrance.

„That is your butler, Langley," Diggle muttered as they dismounted. „He was with your father for thirty years."

„I see." Oliver nodded, strolling forward to meet the man of whom Diggle spoke.

„Your Grace." Langley bowed deeply. „Welcome to your new home. I shall be proud to serve you as I did your father."

„Thank you, Langley." Oliver extended his hand. „I shall rely heavily upon your knowledge of the estate and the staff as I learn my way about."

Langley stared at Oliver's hand in utter stupefaction.

„Go ahead. Grasp it. I'm told dukes's hands closely resemble those of mortals in both shape and texture."

„I couldn't, sir."

Oliver grinned. "Try."

Slowly, as if he were reaching into a blazing furnace, Langley extended his hand.

Oliver clasped it. „Excellent. You've just passed two very important tests of mine."

„Tests, sir?" Retracting his fingers, Langley mopped his forehead with a handkerchief.

„Yes. You've proven yourself to be both diligent and inventive. I will not work alongside a man who can't carry out his tasks, nor one who does so without imagination. I'm now confident you and I will get on famously."

„Thank you, Your Grace." The butler looked uncertain as to what he had done, but delighted to have done it. „Would you care to rest after your journey, or would you prefer to meet the staff now?"

Oliver almost laughed aloud. Journey? It was ten miles from Wellingborough to Northampton. He traveled ten times that distance the nights the bandit struck. „As luck would have it, I'm not at all fatigued. I'd enjoy meeting Starlings's other residents."

"Very well, Your Grace." Langley bowed again, this time with his hands firmly clasped behind his back. „I'll summon them at once."

„I think you can safely dismiss the idea of suggesting to Langley that he call you by your given name," Diggle noted dryly as the butler scurried off. „I don't think he'd be receptive."

„Evidently not." Oliver chuckled, wandering about the grand hallway, taking in the marble columns and priceless statues. „The trinkets in this room alone could feed a half dozen starving families for years."

„As I indicated, your father was an enormously wealthy man."

„So I see."

„The staff awaits you in the library, Your Grace," Langley announced.

Staff?

Oliver would more aptly describe the hundred-some-odd uniformed servants who stood, straight backed, against the library wall as an army.

„First, your valet, Fryers."

„Welcome, Your Grace." The lean, square jawed man bowed. „I look forward to serving you."

„Fryers. A pleasure," Oliver acknowledged.

„Mrs. Gates, your housekeeper," Langley continued, designating the buxom, gray-haired woman who reigned over the unending row of female servants.

„Mrs. Gates."

„Your Grace." She dropped a curtsy.

Next came the coachmen and the head gardener, followed by an assembly of footmen, pages, grooms, gardeners, and gamekeepers, and a horde of housemaids, parlor maids, chambermaids, and scullery maids.

„What the hell did my father do with all these people?" Oliver whispered to Diggle in between nods and smiles. „He was alone, without even a wife, for God's sake."

„They represent status, Dearden." The solicitor waited to reply until Oliver had greeted and dismissed his sizable staff. „The number of servants one has, speaks clearly of one's social and financial position."

„Starling was a bloody recluse!" Oliver exclaimed.

Looking, he stared after the staff as they hastened back to their respective tasks. „Why would a man who'd committed himself to self-imposed exile give a damn about his social position?" Even as he spoke, Oliver held up a silencing hand, checking whatever Diggle was about to answer. „Don't bother. The unwritten rules of the nobility."

„If retaining so many servants troubles you, you could dismiss some of them," Diggle pointed out.

Oliver's expression turned fierce. „And toss them into the gutter? Force them to beg for work where none exists? See them perish in the streets? Never. Langley!" he called after the retreating butler.

„Your Grace?"

„I'd like a complete written list of my staff, including their names and duties. This past half hour has confused me so thoroughly that I can scarcely recall my own name, let alone scores of others. I realize what I'm asking is a cumbersome task, but perhaps if you and Mrs. Gates do it jointly, you can have it to me in several days."

„Of course, sir. Will there be anything else?"

„Not at the moment. Except perhaps some refreshment for my guest?" Oliver arched a quizzical brow in Diggle's direction.

„Nothing for me," the solicitor demurred. „I'd best be getting back to Steelmoore in time for supper. As it is, the viscount will be displeased that I missed his hunt." Diggle's teeth gleamed. „But he'll recover. What I gained here today is far more important than anything I could acquire racing with a pack of hounds. I'm pleased you invited me to accompany you, Dearden."

Oliver's eyes twinkled. „I understand, and I thank you for your assistance. Now, Langley will arrange for my carriage to return you to the ongoing festivities."

„Only until dawn. It is all the time I can spare away from my practice. After which, I'll return to London and be in touch."

„I look forward to it."

Left alone, Oliver gazed restlessly up and down the marble halls, wondering where one could find a warm and peaceful spot to think in this mausoleum.

„Would _you_ like some refreshment, Your Grace?" Langley reappeared to inquire.

„Actually, yes, Langley. I'd also like a comfortable place to enjoy it. Any suggestions?"

„The green room is quite pleasant, sir. It's rather small and tends to catch a good deal of afternoon sunlight. Would that be suitable?"

„It sounds ideal. I'll take my brandy in the green room." Oliver frowned. „How does one locate the green room?"

„Down the hall, sixth door on your right," Langley replied.

The green room, as it turned out, was the closest thing to a sitting room Oliver had seen at Starling so far. Sinking into the tufted sofa, he leaned his head back, raising it only for an occasional sip of brandy.

He had much to do, and a relatively short time in which to do it.

Steelmoore's house party would continue for days, but according to Felicity, her father intended to pack up his family and take his leave tomorrow. It wasn't difficult to surmise what would happen next. Merlyn would return to his estate and beat Felicity senseless.

Oliver had known from the moment Felicity described her father's reasons for hitting her that Merlyn was far from finished. Oliver knew the man, had seen him in action for years. If the son of a bitch were angry enough to strike his daughter in the midst of a public event, to risk a scandal, he was more than furious. And there was no telling what he would do once he had Felicity in the prison of their home.

Damn it! Oliver struck a velvet pillow with his fist. How could he prevent Merlyn's brutality without further endangering Felicity? If he stepped forward and openly confronted the marquis, the scoundrel would viciously retaliate—not against Oliver, who dwarfed him in both size and power, but against Felicity. And, as Felicity had pointed out, the law was on her father's side. The only way she'd be free of the marquis's cruelty was to leave Merlyn Manor.

And the only way to leave Merlyn Manor was to marry.

Maybe he should have proposed the night before, when she was warm and soft in his arms, when her defenses were down, her body awakening. Maybe he'd made a mistake to wait.

But it was too soon. She'd only just learned to trust him, to begin relinquishing her long-sustained inhibitions. If he frightened her off now, he might not have another opportunity to regain her faith. And he was far too good a gambler to take so stupid a risk.

There was one more thing.

Oliver was arrogant enough to want Felicity to weed him out of desire, not escape.

He had to woo her slowly, tenderly. Yet there was no time for either, since there was no deferring Merlyn's aggression. Further, the marquis would never willingly tolerate Oliver as a suitor for Felicity's hand. He could be coerced, of course. Lord knew, Oliver had enough ammunition to do that. But that would eliminate Felicity's freedom of choice, something Oliver refused to do.

So how could he protect her? What ruse could he use?

Merlyn's first payment.

Sitting bolt upright, Oliver seized the notion, wondering why he hadn't thought of it earlier. He'd informed Merlyn that he'd return at week's end to demand a portion of the money he was owed. Very well, return he would. Tomorrow. And somehow, during that visit, he would accomplish the impossible. He would see Felicity alone, push her gently but inexorably toward the altar, and would divert Merlyn enough, without compromising Felicity's dignity, to buy himself time and, in the process, to keep Felicity safe.

How he was going to do this he had no idea.

By morning, he would.

„The Duke of Starling to see you, sir."

Merlyn scowled at his butler. „The Duke of ..." Sharply, he inhaled. „Send him into my study."

„Very good, my lord."

Oliver stalked into the study and stopped, carefully scrutinizing the marquis. From the looks of things, he'd come in time. Merlyn's expression was moody, not belligerent; pale, not ruddy, which assured Oliver that the bastard had not undergone a recent physical confrontation. That, combined with the fact that luggage was still being unloaded from the marquis's carriage and carried through the manor, was enough to put Oliver's mind at ease. Since returning from Steelmoore, Merlyn hadn't had the opportunity to abuse his daughter.

„I've barely entered my home, Dearden. What do you want?" Merlyn snapped.

„I believe the proper form of address is Your Grace."

Daggers flashed in Merlyn's eyes. „Starling is bad enough. Don't expect anything more."

„I take it you're not pleased with my announcement," Oliver noted, propping himself irreverently on the edge of Merlyn's desk. „Given the circumstances, I don't blame you."

„I knew your father. Well. How he could have ..." The marquis stumbled over his own words.

„How he could have what? Bestowed his title, name, and fortune on me? I really don't think he had a choice."

„He could have let his title die."

Oliver smiled bitterly. „Rather than entrust it to a worthless street thug?"

„Precisely."

„You're quite outspoken for a man who has everything to lose."

Merlyn's eyes narrowed. „Haven't you acquired enough money? Starling was one of the wealthiest men in England. Surely you don't need my meager holdings as well."

„Ah, so you're hoping I'll abandon my plan to own you?" Oliver's fist sliced through the air, striking the desk with an impact so savage Merlyn flinched. „Think again, you son of a bitch. If anything, I'm more determined than ever to collect. In fact, that's why I'm here today. The first payment on your notes is due." Slowly, Oliver held out his palm. „Now."

„You know damned well I don't have it."

„Don't you? How unfortunate."

„What are you going to do?" The hatred in Merlyn's eyes was eclipsed by fear. „Ruin me? Publicly declare me bankrupt?"

„That sounds splendid, but premature. I have yet to finish toying with you." Oliver averted his head, openly surveying the room. „I'm sure, given a proper tour of your home, I can find one bauble or another to satisfy this week's payment." Coming to his feet, Oliver strolled about, lifting an occasional statue, running his fingers appraisingly along the carved trim of the walnut furniture.

„Deard … Starling, you can't be serious! Surely you wouldn't ..."

A knock sounded at the door.

„Who is it?" Merlyn snapped.

„Forgive me, my lord," replied his butler, holding out a sealed missive. „But this message just arrived. It's marked urgent."

„Fine. Give it to me." Merlyn snatched the letter, tore it open and scanned its contents. Scowling, he stuffed the note into his pocket. „I have to go to London at once."

„A problem?" Oliver inquired smoothly.

„None that concerns you."

„Perhaps I should be the judge of that."

„You hold my assets," Merlyn hissed. „That does not entitle you to invade my privacy. My missives are for my eyes and my eyes only."

„I could argue that point, but it's not worth the effort. Should the matter involve your finances, I shall learn about it directly." Coldly, Oliver regarded his adversary. „I hope for your sake this is not merely an attempt to avoid settling your debt. Because, if it is, rest assured it will prove unsuccessful. I shall return to collect my payment the morning after next. Doubtless you'll have returned from London by then. And I'll be waiting. Do I make myself clear, Merlyn?"

The marquis turned three shades of red before storming by Oliver. „Show the duke out," he paused to fire at his butler.

„Yes, sir."

„I can show myself out." Calmly, Oliver crossed the room and sidestepped the incensed marquis. „Good day, Merlyn," he continued, never breaking stride. „Have coffee prepared by sunrise. I detest beginning my day without it."

Hearing the muffled expletives echoing in his wake, Oliver had all he could do to keep from laughing aloud. His plan was working perfectly.

Outside the manor, Oliver climbed into his phaeton and swiftly departed, steering his horses around the drive and through the gates until they'd reached the main road. Abruptly, he urged them to the roadside, maneuvering the phaeton until it was totally concealed by the row of trees he had carefully chosen before entering Merlyn's grounds. There he waited.

Not five minutes later, the marquis's carriage rounded the bend, swept by, and disappeared.

Oliver waited a quarter hour to be certain. Then he turned his phaeton around, and headed back toward the manor.

Grinning, he recalled the dire contents of the note. Wouldn't the marquis be surprised to learn that the urgency it conveyed was greatly exaggerated? In fact, not only did Diggle not truly require Merlyn's immediate presence, the solicitor had no notion the marquis was en route to London.

He would shortly, of course. Oliver's other missive would arrive at Diggle's office simultaneously with Diggle himself, putting an unaccustomed burden on the solicitor and giving him the first real challenge he'd ever known.

At the same time, giving Oliver time alone with Felicity.

Just outside Merlyn's gates, Oliver abandoned his phaeton, taking the remaining distance by foot. His reasons were twofold: he was determined to remain undetected by any of Merlyn's residents, and he instinctively knew that the place in which he was most likely to find Felicity was far more accessible by foot than by vehicle.

The woods.

Treading lightly, Oliver made his way among the thick brush, keeping his head up, his ears tuned to any noise that might reveal Felicity's presence.

She was easier to find than he'd expected.

The soft inflection of her voice drifted to him in brief, indistinguishable phrases. She was talking to someone, he mused, although so far there had been no reply.

He soon found out why.

„Flash, what is it? What do you see?"

A flash of copper and a rustle of fabric accompanied Felicity's questions, and Oliver emerged from the trees to see a bushy tail disappear from view and Felicity struggling to her feet.

„I'm afraid I'm the cause of your friend's flight," he chuckled.

„Oliver!"

Breathless, with a smudge of dirt on her nose and golden hair tousled about her shoulders, Felicity looked as innocent as a child and as captivating as a wood nymph.

And delectably happy to see him.

„I startled you. Forgive me." Oliver drew nearer, halting only when he could gaze into those mesmerizing blue eyes. „And forgive me for frightening off your friend."

Felicity glanced back over her shoulder at the now-deserted foxhole entry. „Flash is wary of all people, since most have treated him with abysmal cruelty."

„I caught a glimpse of orange. Flash, I presume, is a fox?"

She nodded. „And a very loyal friend."

„I see." Oliver's fingers brushed lightly over the fading welts on Felicity's cheek. „And, when I arrived, what were you confiding in your very loyal friend? Were you telling him about the ugly bout with your father? Or were you speaking of the ball's more exhilarating encounter?"

Oliver could actually feel the tiny shiver his words elicited.

„Both." She wet her lips with the tip of her tongue. „Oliver, if my father finds you here ..."

„He's gone."

A cocky grin. „Let's just say I'm extremely resourceful when I choose to be."

„You summoned him from Merlyn Manor?"

„I lured him."

„Is there a difference?"

„A big one. If I'd summoned him, I'd have to receive him. Since I lured him, I used bait other than myself, and as a result can remain detached and anonymous. Consequently, he's on his way to London and I'm here."

„But ..."

„I needed to be alone with you," Oliver murmured, threading his fingers through Felicity's hair. „Moreover, I had no intention of allowing the blackguard time to finish the beating he began at Steelmore. I am on time, aren't I?"

Quietly, Felicity nodded, ingesting Oliver's words. „So you came here to rescue me?"

„You sound surprised."

„No, not surprised. It's only that I hadn't expected to see you again so soon after ..." She blushed.

„So soon?" Oliver shook his head in amazement. „Since those moments in the garden, I've thought of nothing but the feel of you in my arms. Had I not gone home that same night, I would have sought you out at dawn. As it was, I left immediately after the ball. I had to arrange for my move to Starling."

„You've moved already?"

„Yesterday."

„Are you settled in then?"

Oliver frowned, absently rubbing a sunlit tress. „My belongings have been transferred. Settled in? I don't think I'll ever be that." He blinked, startled by the natural candor of his own response.

Evidently, Felicity wasn't. „You're wrong, Oliver. Just give yourself time. And remember, there are all varieties of dukes. You will merely enhance that number by one."

Acting on gut emotion, Oliver pulled Felicity into his arms. „Must I ask permission?"

„No," she whispered, wrapping her arms about his neck. „You know what my answer would be."

This time the magic was abrupt, shattering, exploding the instant it began. Oliver took Felicity's mouth fiercely, kissing her with bone-melting thoroughness and heartrending need. His tongue swept inside to mate with hers, his hands trembled as they dragged her closer, fitted her more totally against him.

Felicity's response nearly brought him to his knees. As urgent as he, she met his tongue, stroke for stroke, leaning into him until he could feel the very pounding of her heart.

„Felicity."

Whose raw, aching voice was that? Oliver wondered dazedly. Who was this unknown stranger whose control was as light as the finest silk?

Evidently it was he.

As if from afar, Oliver watched himself ease Felicity to the grass. Never breaking the kiss, he lay on his side, clasping her to him with all the desperation of a drowning man seeking shelter. With a will of their own, his fingers unfastened the tiny row of buttons down the back of her gown, tugging at the sleeves until he'd bared the upper slope of her breasts.

Tearing his mouth from hers, Oliver kissed her neck, her throat, moving slowly down to the warm skin he'd exposed. He felt Felicity shiver, heard the small, inarticulate sound of pleasure she made as his lips caressed her.

„Do you like that?" he rasped.

„Yes. Oh, yes." Felicity's arms slid up to cradle his head, her breath breaking as he kissed the hollow between her breasts.

„Tell me you want more." His fingertips grazed her nipples, felt them tighten beneath the confines of her gown and chemise.

„Oliver." Her reverently whispered word was all the reply he needed.

In one sharp tug, her bodice and chemise slid lower, freeing her breasts to his greedy gaze.

„Christ, you're beautiful." Oliver was shuddering so violently he could barely speak. Moreover, there were no words vivid enough to describe what he was feeling. He had to show her.

Arching Felicity closer, Oliver captured her nipple between his lips, surrounding it in liquid heat. She cried out, and he deepened the contact, alternately tugging the hardened peak, then soothing it with gentle sweeps of his tongue.

„Oliver. Stop," she gasped, shaking her head from side to side.

Instantly, Oliver raised his head, met Felicity's smoky gaze. „Am I hurting you?"

„No."

„Frightening you?"

„No."

A muscle worked in his jaw as he combated desire, attempted comprehension. „Tell me it's not caused by shame. Tell me you know how right this is between us."

„What?" Felicity's eyes were heavy lidded with passion.

„Is this a matter of honor? Of virtue?" With a breathy sigh, she ran her fingers through his hair.

„Neither. It's a matter of torment."

„ When you ..." she blushed, „caressed me like that, it was unbearable. Not painful, just unbearable." She inclined her head in quizzical apology. „What I really wanted was to beg you to stop … and, at the same time, never to stop. Does that make any sense?"

Oliver wanted her so much at that moment he thought he'd die. Closing his eyes, he fought for the iron control that disintegrated more with each heartbeat.

„Please," she murmured, „don't be angry. I've just never ..."

The rest of Felicity's apology was swallowed by Oliver's kiss. Fervently, he devoured her, his mouth ravaging hers, his hands molding her breasts in shuddering, relentless possession.

„Do you have any idea what you do to me?" he demanded, rolling her to her back. „Do you, my innocent Snow flame?"

„I know what you do to me," she answered with that artless naiveté that tore at his heart. „Is it the same?"

Oliver stared down at her, taking in the soft flush of her cheeks, the perfect contour of her naked breasts bared for his eyes alone. „Somewhat," he managed, tangling his fingers in her disheveled golden mane. „Only I know where this can lead. You don't."

Her smile was wise and thoroughly female. „I know exactly where this can lead."

Despite the painful throbbing in his loins, Oliver had to grin at the conviction of her tone. „Really? Where?"

„That depends on who you ask. Mama would say 'to a woman's performance of her duty in the marriage bed'. Given the circumstances, the vicar would say 'to sin'."

Oliver chuckled. „And what would you say?"

The trust in Felicity's eyes was the most potent aphrodisiac Oliver had ever known. „With you? To heaven."

Sucking in his breath, Oliver went rigid, fighting to calm the screaming urgency of his need. „Keep talking like that, looking at me like that, and we'll experience heaven far sooner than I'd planned."

What has just happened is already a miracle to me," Felicity said, her tone laced with wonder. „It's the first time I've been touched with gentleness and joy, rather than with brutality."

„Marry me, Felicity."

The words were out before Oliver realized he'd uttered them, yet he wouldn't have called them back if he could.

„What did you say?" Her eyes were as wide as saucers.

„I asked you to marry me." Tenderly, he eased her bodice back into place, stating without words that his proposal was not spawned by the ardor of the past few moments.

„Marry you," she repeated softly, tasting each word as she voiced it. Myriad emotions flashed across her face in rapid succession: surprise, quizzical uncertainty, veiled speculation, a touch of confusion, a flicker of hope. „Why?" she whispered at last.

„Many reasons."

„But are they the right ones?" Felicity struggled to sit up, simultaneously brushing leaves from her hair. „We've know each other less than a fortnight."

„We've known each other from the instant we met," Oliver countered. „As for the rightness of my reasons, is it right that I want to keep you safe? To see you smile? To give you things you can never have at Merlyn, wrench you from things you can otherwise never escape?"

„And what will I give you in return?"

Oliver leaned forward, reaching around to fasten her buttons. „You," he said huskily, brushing her lips with his. „Your magnificent spirit, which I have yet to free."

Felicity's breath broke on a shiver. „Only my spirit?"

His fingers paused, feathered over her bare shoulder. „No. Not only your spirit. All of you. Your fire, your innocence, your passion."

A soft moan escaped Felicity's lips. „I shouldn't have asked."

„Why not?"

„Because I can't think clearly when you say such things."

„You don't have to think. You have only to say yes."

„Oliver, my father ..."

„Damn your father."

She stiffened. „Will that be hastened by my marrying you?"

„Will what be hastened?"

„Damning my father." She drew back, her gaze delving deep into Oliver's. „Does your sudden urge to make me your wife factor into whatever plans you have for him?"

A muscle flexed in Oliver's jaw. „The urge isn't sudden. I've been combating it for days. I want you, Felicity. By my side. In my life. In my bed."

„That's not an answer."

„Then perhaps this is. Your father's damning is a fait accompli whether or not we wed. So, no, my proposal is not linked to his downfall. It is, however, partially spawned by my firsthand knowledge of his cruelty, which makes me eager to wrest you from his contemptible presence. The marquis and I go back many years, more years than even he recalls." Oliver drew a harsh breath, instantly realizing he'd revealed more than he intended. „I'd prefer you didn't jog his memory by mentioning our early acquaintanceship. I'll tell him myself, when I'm ready." Pausing, Oliver waited, half expecting Felicity to refuse his unsubstantiated request, and unable to blame her if she did. He was asking her to betray her father with silence, while giving her no justification for doing so.

He was prepared for any reaction other than the one he got.

„Thank you," Felicity murmured, caressing the taut line of his jaw. That simple phrase, together with the consummate faith shining in her eyes, humbled Oliver as nothing else could. And her next words shattered his reserve into fragments of nothingness. „You've just offered me the most wondrous gift: the first sign of your trust. I don't pretend to understand the basis for your request. But in my heart, I know your motives are sound. You have my word, Oliver. I'll guard your secret. When Father hears the truth, whatever that may be, he shall hear it entirely from you."

With a low groan, Oliver tugged Felicity to his chest, threading his fingers through her hair. „Be patient with me, Snow flame," he said in a raw tone. „It's not only trusting I find difficult. It's more. My past. There are portions of it that I have buried long ago, portions too painful to discuss."

Felicity rubbed her cheek against his waistcoat. „I know how difficult it is to share the pain," she whispered. „Especially pain that's been submerged in your soul for years. You'll tell me when you're ready. I can wait."

Too moved to speak, Oliver lightly caressed Felicity's nape, focusing his attention on the refastening of her top two buttons. „ I'm the one who should thank you," he said simply, when he'd regained a measure of self-control. „For now, just understand that I need to take you away from Merlyn Manor, out of that bastard's house, away from his brutality."

„You mentioned before that you'd summoned ..." Felicity broke off, correcting herself with a conspiratorial grin, „lured Father to London?"

„Indeed I did. He'll be there for two days."

That made Felicity's chin come up, and she stared at Oliver with those exquisite blue eyes. „Two days! How on earth did you manage that? Father loathes racing from one excursion to the next, and we only returned from Steelmoore an hour ago."

Chuckling, Oliver kissed the inquisitive pucker between her brows. „I told you, I'm resourceful. I merely asked an associate to summon the marquis on a matter of great financial urgency."

„Would that matter involve the insurance money on our stolen jewelry?"

„Excellent," Oliver commended with a twinkle. „Your intuition constantly astounds me."

„Coming from such a cunning strategist, I'll consider that the most splendid of compliments," Felicity teased, her cheeks flushed with pleasure.

Oliver wondered if she had any idea how beautiful the real Felicity was.

„Oliver?" Lost in a new thought, Felicity caught her lower lip between her teeth. „How much money will Father recover?"

„That depends upon the value of what was taken."

„I see. Was my pearl necklace worth a great deal?"

A practiced warning chord sounded in Oliver's head, a self-developed signal he'd perfected over the years, triggered whenever the topic commanded he protect his secret life.

And, despite the fact that Felicity was anything but the enemy, Oliver mentally segregated his one-time glimpse of her pearls from the most extensive examinations made by the Green Arrow Bandit. „Your pearl necklace?"

„Yes, you remember, the one you admired at the Stakes. Was it valuable?"

Without realizing it, she'd provided him with the perfect course of evasion.

He seized it. „Did I? I don't recall. I was too busy looking at you."

Felicity quirked a brow. „You said it was my necklace you were admiring."

„I lied."

Her spontaneous burst of laughter obliterated Oliver's tension, brought his mind back to the subject at hand … making Felicity his bride.

„Have I gifted my trust to a scoundrel then?" Felicity's eyes danced with amusement.

„I fear you have, my lady." Tenderly, Oliver stroked loose strands of hair from her forehead. „But bear in mind that this scoundrel has honorable intentions."

„I shall not forget." She was suddenly utterly solemn.

„Take these two days," Oliver murmured huskily, nudging her lips apart and circling them with his own. „Your father is away, so you're safe. Stroll through the village, visit your vicar, do whatever makes you happy. But at night, alone in your bed, think of me, of us, of what happens when we're together. Think of all I can give you, all we can give each other. Think of the real Felicity, the one who shows herself only to me. Think of what happens when she's in my arms, when she lets the fire inside her rage free. Think of exploring every exhilarating nuance of passion life has to offer … and I don't mean only those we'll experience in bed. Although, God knows, I can't wait much longer to have you under me. Ponder all that, my breathtaking Snow flame. Then say you'll be my wife." Oliver kissed her deeply, hungrily, with all the possessiveness of a man who knew the woman he held belonged to him. „I'll be back in two days for your answer. Then, I shall deal with your father."


	11. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

Felicity doubted she'd ever sleep again.

Rolling onto her back, she stared at the thin stream of light filtering through her bedroom window, wondering whether it was daylight's first rays or moonlight's final vestiges she was witnessing. She prayed for the former, as it seemed an eternity since she'd extinguished her candle and begun her unsuccessful attempt at slumber.

Tonight's sleeplessness was totally unexpected, though not inexplicable.

Normally, her fitful nights were rooted in the relentless dread that any moment her father would burst in, and begin another painful session of „teaching Felicity compliance."

But there was no threat of a beating tonight. Her father was away from Merlyn Manor, which customarily assured Felicity of a peaceful and undisturbed rest.

Neither of which was forthcoming.

In fact, rather than reveling in her temporary reprieve, Felicity's emotions were encased in turmoil. Oliver.

He dominated her thoughts so thoroughly it was overwhelming. Her mind was consumed with the mystery of his secrets, her heart was haunted by the torment of his pain, her spirit clamored for the freedom he'd promised.

And her body burned for something only he could provide.

How could one man have such extraordinary control over her?

Contemplating the particular man involved, Felicity dismissed the question.

Her next question, however, was not so easy to dismiss.

Why did Oliver want to marry her? Not some of his reasons, but all.

Oh, she didn't doubt that what he'd told her had been the truth, or, to be more precise, a part thereof. He did want to protect her, did, somehow, know her father well enough to deduce his propensity for violence. And yes, there was that emotional pull between them, one that had been there from the start. Not to mention the physical pull. Felicity … had never dreamt that one man could make her feel like this, as if everything inside her were pooled into a white-hot liquid knot of need.

But there was more. She knew it, just as surely as she knew there were dark caches of Oliver's past that would test her, again and again, until he could put them to rest.

What had motivated the timing of his proposal? He was too practiced in self-control to blurt out such a life-altering question without forethought, too hardened by life to allow sympathy and desire to propel him.

He was enacting some plan, a plan that would destroy not only her father, but based upon Oliver's hatred for the ton, countless other noblemen as well.

He was a nobleman himself now, a duke. That provided him with assets until now upheld, assets and obligations. Did the acquisition of a title compel him to seek a wife?

No. Not Oliver He was too irreverent. He wouldn't give a damn what was proper. Duke or not, if he chose to remain unmarried … why, if he chose to transport a half dozen courtesans to Starling to pleasure him on the front lawn for all to see … he would.

Then what piece of the puzzle was missing?

Felicity glanced at the clock on her mantle. Six in the morning. That did it.

She flung back the covers and climbed out of bed. Unlike her father, Oliver was continually urging her to be herself, to be an active participant, not a victim. Very well. It was time she sought answers, not the ones Oliver was yet unwilling to supply, but those that were within her grasp, those that would determine her future. She would go to the one person who'd never failed to help her, who, in his infinite wisdom, had comforted and guided her all her life.

Slices of morning sunlight illuminated the church when Felicity entered its modest walls. „Vicar? Are you here?"

„Good morning, Snowdrop. What a delightful surprise." Lance came to greet her, hands extended.

His smile vanished the moment he saw the fading welts on her cheek. „Why has Malcolm struck you?"

„It doesn't matter now"

„It most certainly does!" Instinctively, the vicar gripped her shoulders, as if to steady her with his support. „Are you all right? Are you suffering any ill effects from Malcolm's assault?"

Felicity shook her head.""None. Truly. The reason of my visit has nothing to do with Father. In fact, he's in London until tomorrow, so I'm free to spend as much time with you as I like. I tried to collect Flash so he might join us on a jaunt to the school, but he wanted no part of me once he realized my plans involved abandoning the woods. Perhaps tomorrow I'll try again. I so want to return to the children. I promised them another visit, this time with my fox cub. I'm hoping Mother will receive a delivery while Father is away, so I can bring the boots and woolen shawls at the same time, and ..."

„Felicity," the vicar interrupted quietly. „Why did your father strike you? Is it because of your visits to the church? Did he learn of them and retaliate?"

The vicar made a pause and then offered himself the reply: „Yes."

Lance inhaled sharply. „I want you to go home. Now."

„Didn't you hear what I said?" Felicity asked, clutching his arms. „Father is away until tomorrow."

„But not all his associates are with him. If one of Malcolm's colleagues should see you here, he will doubtless report it back to your father. I shudder to think how will Malcolm react to your committing another offense, especially in light of this recent beating."

"I've withstood my Father's wrath for twenty years," Felicity replied. Touching her fingers to her cheek, she wondered for the umpteenth time how the vicar would react if he knew the true extent of her father's brutality, the lashing wounds he purposely confined to places no-one could see. „I'll continue to withstand what I must. I cannot stop seeing my friends, or helping those in need." A soft smile touched her lips. „Then again, this whole discussion might be unnecessary."

„Unnecessary? Why?"

„That's the reason for my visit. I have something very important to share with you. In truth, I've wanted to tell you since it first began. Please. I know you're busy, but may we talk for a few moments?"

„You have my ear for as long as you need it. You know that, Snowdrop." Lance gestured for Felicity to sit.

„Thank you." Felicity lowered herself to the bench, turning brilliant eyes toward the vicar. „I don't know where to begin. So much has happened. So much has changed. I've changed."

He studied her intently. „Does this involve the gentleman we discussed last week? Oliver Dearden?"

She started. „Yes. How did you know?"

„One doesn't need to be a prophet to discern human emotion," the vicar chuckled. „Your eyes glowed when you spoke of Mr. Dearden and your day at the Stakes. They're glowing the same way now." He sat beside her, took her hand between both of his. „Do you care for him, child?"

„Oh, yes," Felicity breathed. „I care for him. He's kind and gentle and ..." She broke off, blushing.

„I think I understand." The vicar cleared his throat. „Tell me, Felicity, what is your father's reaction? I recall your mentioning there was some discomfort between Dearden and the marquis."

„They despise each other."

„Then…?"

„Father has no notion I've been seeing Oliver. If he did, he'd kill me. Especially now." She took a deep breath. „Vicar, Oliver attended the Steelmoore ball three nights past. He had a rather extraordinary announcement to make. He's just discovered he's now the Duke of Starling."

Lance blinked. „Goodness! That's quite a discovery."

„Evidently, the late duke was Oliver's father."

„And he never contacted his son to tell him so?"

Felicity hesitated. „No. Oliver was illegitimate. He grew up in a workhouse, then made his own way in the world."

„He sounds like a remarkable man. But I'm a bit confused, Snowdrop. If your Oliver has now discovered he's a member of the peerage, your father's objections should be silenced."

„Not in this case. Do you recall my mentioning my belief that Oliver has some kind of hold over Father?" She waited for the vicar's nod, cautioning herself not to reveal too much. She'd promised Oliver not to divulge the far-reaching history, he had with her father, and she would honor that pledge. „Well, apparently, Oliver's exalted position has increased Father's fear, and thereby his hostility, immeasurably. I saw the hatred and dread on his face when he heard Oliver's announcement.

„Felicity," the vicar said with a frown, „if what you suspect is true, is it possible the duke's interest in you is somehow linked to the cause of your Father's hostility?"

„No," she returned with an adamant shake of her head. „Although I must admit I asked Oliver that question directly. But I needn't have. I already knew my answer. What's between us is very real, an entity on its own."

Gently, the vicar lifted Felicity's chin. „Are you falling in love with him, child?"

Felicity's answer struck her in a joyous flash of insight. „I don't think Oliver would have it any other way." She smiled, dazed and jubilant all at once. „Yes, Vicar, I'm falling in love with him."

„And he?"

„He's asked me to marry him."

„Marriage!" Lance came to his feet in a rush. „Isn't that a rather drastic step? After all, you've known this man a very short time."

„I know he cares for me, and he wants to take me away from Merlyn Manor … from Father," Felicity explained carefully, wishing she could blurt out everything, equally determined not to. She would protect Oliver as she had vowed, to him, and to herself. „That's what I meant when I said your concern was unnecessary. If Oliver has his way, I'll be safe … with him."

„I see." The vicar gazed thoughtfully down at her. „Is your decision made then?"

Silence.

„Snowdrop." He drew her to her feet. „If you're certain of your feelings, and the duke's, then what is distressing you? Are you worried about Malcolm's condemnation?"

Tears filled Felicity's eyes. „No. God forgive me, but I don't care what Father thinks of Oliver. I don't even care if he condemns the marriage and me. Lord knows it wouldn't be the first time. No, Vicar, it's something else, something that's rather difficult to explain."

„Try."

She nodded, dashing the tears from her cheeks. „Oliver's life is a complex lock that has been secured for thirty years. My heart tells me I must be patient, for Oliver alone possesses the lock's key, a key he will hand me when he's ready, and not before. I understand that, and I accept it. You would, too, if you knew him. He has the most astonishing degree of discipline and self-control I've ever seen. I feel it every time we're together. It's as if he gives himself up in small, measured doses, while at the same time rendering me completely helpless and emotionally exposed."

„To me, it sounds as if he's erected walls to avoid being hurt. Given his painful childhood, that's not surprising."

„No. It isn't. But tell me, Vicar, what am I to think when, out of nowhere, this rigidly disciplined and controlled man blurts out something as significant as a marriage proposal?" Felicity shook her head. „The contradiction is staggering. _Too_ staggering."

„I understand your bafflement," Lance concurred. „My next question is, did you express your concern to the duke?"

Again, Felicity nodded. „He insists the proposal was not impulsive, but long thought out."

„And you don't believe him?"

„No. Yes. Somewhat." Felicity made a choked sound. "I do believe he wishes to wed me. I just have the nagging feeling there's more to his reasoning than he's admitted." Pleadingly, she searched the vicar's face. „Help me. You always do."

Her friend's smile was tinged with regret. „Your belief in me far exceeds my abilities, Snowdrop. There are some answers we must seek within ourselves."

„But I can't."

„Can't you? Look inside your heart, Felicity. Haven't you already found what you're seeking?"

Her lips trembled as she absorbed the clergyman's words. „Yes," she whispered at last.

„Good." Rubbing his eyes to dislodge whatever unseen particles were causing them to tear. „It appears your future has been chosen by the one whose rightful job it is to do so. You. However, I do request the opportunity to meet this lucky gentleman on whom you've bestowed your heart."

„Oh, would you?" Felicity's whole face lit up. „Your blessing would mean so much to me." Impulsively, she hugged him. „Thank you, Vicar. Oliver will be returning to Merlyn Manor tomorrow for my answer. I'll arrange a meeting then."

„Does the duke realize how badly Malcolm is going to take the news of your betrothal? How violent your father can get?"

„Yes, I believe he does."

The vicar inclined his head quizzically. „You never did specify the basis for their hatred. How did your father's and the duke's paths first cross?"

„Oliver refuses to discuss it," Felicity replied candidly, grateful that the vicar had asked how and not when. „So I'm not certain precisely what is between them. But I suspect it involves Father's monetary assets."

„What makes you think that?"

„Because there is little ammunition one could use against my father. He fears nothing save financial and social embarrassment. And I do have cause to believe he is worried over a lack of funds."

Her friend's brows rose. „Malcolm? In financial difficulty?"

Felicity nodded. „Evidently, that's the reason he raced off to London directly after returning from Steelmoore. He wanted to secure the insurance money on our stolen jewels as quickly as possible."

„Possessions mean a great deal to your father, Snowdrop. Just because he wants to regain what he considers rightfully his doesn't mean he's in a precarious monetary position."

„True. And that act alone wouldn't give me pause. But his behavior on our journey to Steelmoore was most unusual. Rather than being tyrannical, he was nervous and distracted, muttering that I should marry a wealthy nobleman who could remove the noose that is hanging about his neck."

„And you think your duke might be that noose?"

„Or involved in whatever has created that noose. Yes, I believe it's possible. But that's only speculation on my part. I've pressed Oliver but, thus far, he has evaded the subject entirely."

„Hmm. Well, I must say, I'm looking forward to meeting this enigmatic champion of yours."

The vicar's particular choice of words made Felicity smile. „Yes, Vicar, I, too, look forward to your meeting my enigmatic champion."

Oliver was feeling anything but a champion.

Tossing down his second cup of black coffee, he ignored the sun's early morning rays, instead pacing the length of his bed chamber and wondering for the hundredth time since midnight, when he'd abandoned all attempts at sleep, why the hell he hadn't carried Felicity off when he'd had the chance. Instead, he'd gambled stupidly, giving her two days to think, hoping that her heart would subsequently convince her to accept his proposal.

And, in the process, he once again left her in her father's domain.

The risk suddenly seemed too precarious, more so as his confidence in Diggle began to falter. What if he'd overestimated the solicitor's potential? What if Diggle were unable, or unwilling, to keep Merlyn in London?

Oliver slammed his cup onto the night stand, raked his fingers through his hair.

Diggle's answering missive, delivered late last night, had done nothing to appease his worry. Oh, the solicitor had accepted the unexpected challenge he'd been handed, agreed to do his best to keep Merlyn occupied for a day or two. But, in closing, he warned Oliver that Merlyn was not stupid, nor easily manipulated, and he, therefore, could make no promises.

Damn.

Dropping into a chair, Oliver stared, unseeing, at the bed chamber window, illuminated now by a full patch of morning sunlight. With great effort, he tamped down his emotions, forcing himself to think rationally.

In truth, Diggle's abilities were, in this case, not pivotal. Even if the solicitor were an unconvincing accomplice, Merlyn was in no hurry to return home, not with the knowledge that Oliver's visit was imminent, his determination to collect his debt unyielding. No, the marquis would stay away as long as possible … at least until midday tomorrow, in the hopes of dodging his nemesis. But he wouldn't succeed. For Oliver would be lying in wait, savoring his own impending announcement.

After which, Felicity would be his.

Oliver's conscience reared its head, reminding him that Felicity knew but a portion of the truth. Granted, it was the most significant part, the part that involved the feelings unfurling between them. But that didn't change the fact that she deserved to know everything, including the terms of Starling's will.

But the risk of driving her away had silenced him. Her trust in him was new, fragile. He'd finally convinced her she played no part in his battle with Merlyn. The last thing he wanted was to reignite her self-doubt by implying she was a mere vessel for his requisite heir. Were that to happen, he'd lose her—spirit, faith and hand. As it was, he could only pray that her feelings for him outweighed her fear and her commitment to her father.

And so goes the problem back to the issue: Felicity's commitment to Merlyn.

That spawned an interesting line of thought which diverted Oliver from his musings.

Felicity had been decidedly curious over the details of her father's monetary recovery from the burglary. Not surprising. Given Felicity's fine instincts, Oliver assumed she'd arrived at the accurate conclusion that Merlyn was undergoing financial hardship. Moreover, it was likely she'd further deduced that Oliver was somehow connected to those difficulties. What she didn't know, but was doubtless racking her brain to discern, was his motive.

He wondered if she would understand if he told her, if he delved into the heinous history he shared with the marquis. Were she anyone but Felicity, he wouldn't even consider doing so. But his spirited Snow flame, with her generous heart and limitless compassion … perhaps she could fathom the helpless degradation he'd endured, the hatred that burned within him.

But the man he planned to destroy was her father.

Would that same compassion cause her to sympathize with the marquis? Would dutiful feelings for her father intercede on his behalf?

Based upon past actions, the answer was no. After all, hadn't she helped Oliver rob her house? Hadn't she protected him from Merlyn's wrath?

No. She hadn't. The man she'd aided was the Green Arrow Bandit.

Irrational jealousy surged through Oliver, and he clenched his fists to stem its flow. This was insanity. The man he resented didn't exist, was but a fictitious hero Oliver himself had created.

That reality did nothing to appease him. For the first time Oliver found himself wishing his disguise weren't quite so flawless, that he hadn't been hooded, masked, swathed in green from head to toe when Felicity had awakened. He wished the hushed darkness of night hadn't cast her bed chamber in shadows, that he'd employed more than the light of a single candle to illuminate himself. Perhaps if he'd touched her, held her, spoken to her in his own voice rather than a practiced rasp, she would have known.

Known? Oliver drew himself up short. Known what? An undisclosed truth, he'd sworn never to reveal? A truth that would jeopardize everything he stood for, not to mention endangering the person who discovered it?

Christ, he really was losing his mind. If Felicity was infatuated with the bandit, there wasn't a damned thing he could do about it … yet. Once she was his wife, once he had her in his bed … Oliver swallowed, feeling everything inside him go hard with desire. Once that happened, he'd make her forget all about her bloody champion of the poor.

Reflexively, Oliver stood, crossing the room to open his desk drawer. Reaching beneath the hidden panel, he extracted the small, perfect pearl he had pried from Felicity's necklace … his souvenir from the burglary at Merlyn Manor, and his intended token for the next.

It began, that familiar restlessness churning inside him, this time magnified threefold by the emotional turmoil over Felicity. Whip taut with tension, Oliver rolled the pearl between his fingers, watching it catch the morning light in an incandescent glow. There was only one remedy for his fervor: to channel his energy into something useful, something to keep his mind off Felicity until he could go to Merlyn Manor and claim her.

A burglary. The ideal distraction.

Now the question was who.

A slow smile curved Oliver's lips as he contemplated the gem in his hand, recalled the vast assortment of jewelry he'd spied on every noblewoman attending the Steelmoore ball. Doubtless the jewels they wore were only a small sample of what remained behind in their respective manors. He distinctly remembered Diggle informing him that the party at Steelmoore's would drag on for days, despite the fact that Merlyn's foul humor had evidently compelled him to depart early. But the rest of the ton would be carrying on with the festivities.

Leaving their homes blissfully short of occupants.

And providing endless possibilities for the Green Arrow Bandit.


	12. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

The Earl of Gaynor's, Mansfield estate was every bit as lavish as his countess's dazzling jewels had suggested.

The bandit smiled, a self-satisfied smile, surveying the library's costly sculpture and paintings by the light of his single candle. It had been worth the long ride from Starling, as well as the special provisions he'd been forced to make deferring his visit to Thompson's store until tomorrow.

Under normal circumstances, an all-night journey wouldn't trouble him in the least. His customary procedure right after each theft was to hasten to Thompson's shop at Covent Garden, make his exchange, then, just before dawn, leave his green arrow in the night's chosen workhouse and travel home in the morning.

But not this time. This time he needed to be home by dawn to reach Merlyn Manor … and Felicity … by the first light of day.

Checking his timepiece, the bandit frowned. Seven after two. It had taken him ten minutes longer than usual to gain access to the manor. Clearly, the ton was taking extra precautions to prevent his intrusion, as was evidenced by the solid, newly installed catch boasted by Gaynor's drawing-room window. The catch would require a quarter hour to force back, even with his expertise. Accordingly, he'd improvised, cutting a pane of glass just large enough to accommodate him.

He'd have to make up the time.

With that thought, the bandit swiftly and methodically began to strip Gaynor of his assets, helping himself to the generous stack of money that filled the strong box, the opulent silver lining the pantry shelves.

Making his way upstairs, he entered Lady Gaynor's empty bed chamber. It took mere minutes to discover that her gem collection, though horribly ugly, was even more extensive than he'd hoped. Quickly, he pocketed the tasteless rings and flamboyant necklaces, pausing occasionally to grimace with distaste over a particularly tacky piece. A sudden image flashed through his mind of Felicity's face were she to see these horrific jewels, and his lips twitched with amusement. His Snow flame would shudder with revulsion if she stood beside him right now. Why, these trinkets made the Viscount Steelmoore's necklace appear refined.

He was still grinning when he made his way into the master bed chamber, placing Felicity's delicate pearl together with a green arrow on the earl's pillow. Keenly aware of the time, he retraced his steps, careful to remain utterly silent, and eased through the hall, down the steps, and back to the drawing room.

A heartbeat later, he hoisted himself through the window, sliding the shutters into place so no one glancing at the manor could discover the missing pane of glass.

The first portion of tonight's job was done.

Riding at breakneck speed, the bandit mentally added the fifteen hundred pounds that he'd removed from Gaynor's strongbox to the two thousand pounds of his own money he'd brought. Three thousand five hundred pounds … a respectable sum for the run-down workhouse he'd selected on the outskirts of Mansfield.

He was in and out of the workhouse in a quarter hour, leaving the gleaming green arrow together with the money just beside the headmaster's door.

It was fifty miles back to Northamptonshire and less than three hours until dawn. There wasn't time to stop and hide the jewels. He'd have to go directly to Starling and somehow evade the army of servants long enough to hide his clothes and his spoils, then prepare for the all-important excursion to Merlyn Manor, where Felicity would give him her answer.

„Good morning, Mrs. Raisa."

With a warm smile, Felicity sailed into the kitchen, bright and perky as if it were not still dark outside.

Unsurprised, the cook returned her smile wanly, gesturing for the kitchen maids to continue their pre-dawn preparations. „I'm glad you're up and about early, Miss Felicity. I need to speak with you."

„Oh, can't it wait?" Felicity appealed, glancing about at the array of fruits and biscuits being readied for the morning meal. „I have very little time before Father returns from London. I'd like to gather up whatever food you've saved for me and ride to the village and back before he arrives."

„Unfortunately, no, it can't wait." Uncomfortably, Mrs. Rasisa wiped her hands on the front of her starched apron.

This time her unhappy tone penetrated Felicity's absorbed train of thought. „What is it, Mrs. Raisa? Is something wrong?"

„I'm afraid it is." The cook led Felicity into a corner where they could remain unheard. „I didn't want to have to tell you this, but it can't be avoided any longer."

„Goodness! What is it?"

Mrs. Raisa inhaled sharply, as if to steel herself. „It's the marquis. He's threatened to discharge me."

„What?" Felicity turned sheet-white.

„It happened the night before you left for Steelmoore. He came to the kitchen in a rage, sought me out to condemn me for wasting food. He was very specific in his accusation, and his ultimatum. Unless I do a better job of rationing the meals, he'll hire another cook and cast me into the street." Mrs. Raisa's eyes grew damp. „I'm sorry, Miss Felicity. But I need my job."

„Oh, God." Felicity seized the cook's trembling hands. „This is all my fault. I asked you to set aside portions of our food so I could take them to the vicar."

„I know. And I didn't say a word to your Father, I swear it. But I just can't do it anymore, Miss Felicity. I spent the last few days trying to think of another way to help you, but I ..."

„No." Felicity interrupted. „Don't even consider trying to outwit Father. It is impossible. He'll deduce what you're up to and vent his fury full force. I couldn't live with that. Please, Mrs. Raisa, don't endanger your job." Or yourself, she added silently.

„I'm so sorry, my lady." The cook wrung her hands.""How are you going to help those poor children now?"

„I'll find another way." Impulsively, Felicity hugged her. „I'm glad you came to me. I don't know what I'd do if we lost you. Now don't you worry. I'll think of something."

Back in the privacy of her room, Felicity perched dejectedly on the edge of the bed, wishing she felt as confident as she'd sounded. Without her weekly donations of food, what could she offer the children? How would they get enough to eat? Who would aid the vicar in his mission to care for them?

Oliver would.

Immediately, Felicity squelched that notion. Oh, she knew without a doubt Oliver would help her if she asked. She also knew, however, that she had no right to ask. She wasn't his wife … at least not yet.

No, for the time being she was on her own.

Unless…

Torn by indecision, Felicity contemplated her last resort, her mother.

Like Oliver, Donna would not hesitate to offer whatever aid she could. But at what cost? Felicity shuddered to think what her father would do if he discovered his wife had crossed that long-established forbidden line.

_If_ he discovered.

Felicity bolted to her feet. Her father was still in London. Perhaps if she acted quickly she could elicit her mother's help. Together, they could make a difference without the marquis ever finding out.

Bursting into the hallway, Felicity sprinted down the hall to her mother's room.

„Yes?" the marchioness's sleepy voice greeted her knock.

„Mother?" Felicity eased the door open. „I apologize for awakening you before dawn. But I must speak with you."

Donna sat up, alarmed. „Are you all right?"

„Yes, I'm fine." Felicity crossed the room, lit the nightstand lamp, and sat down beside her mother. „But I need your help."

„Of course." Donna gave her a quizzical look. Rarely did Felicity seek her out to share confidences, and certainly never before daylight was upon them. „What is it, dear?"

Taking a deep breath, Felicity poured out her situation.

„I had nowhere else to turn," she concluded, watching her mother's features soften with compassion. „Neither did I know when Father was returning, else I wouldn't have disturbed you so early. But I was afraid that if I waited, I'd run the risk of his overhearing us. Mama," Felicity's voice trembled, „I must do something."

Slowly, Donna nodded, her chin set in a rare expression of determination. „Yes, you must. As must I."

Felicity started. „But what if Father ..."

„The missive I received from your father said he wouldn't arrive home until late this afternoon." As she spoke, Donna leaned over and slid open her nightstand drawer, reaching in to grope around. „Therefore, if we act quickly, we don't have to take him on." A triumphant glint lit her eyes, and she pulled out a small velvet jewel case. „This should do nicely." Unfastening it, she extracted a grotesquely large ruby-and-sapphire brooch. „It will bring you a handsome sum, more than enough to feed the parish children."

A soft gasp escaped Felicity's lips. „I don't recall ever seeing that particular piece."

„I rarely wear it." Donna grinned wryly. „It's gruesome, isn't it?"

„But, I don't understand. Why didn't the bandit take it the night of the burglary?"

„I had loaned it to Aunt Edith toward the end of this past Season. She thinks it a rare prize, but then, it's much more her taste than mine. In any event, she only just returned it." Turning the heavy brooch over in her hands, Donna sighed. „In truth, I'd hoped she'd forget to do so. Heirloom or not, I hate it. So does Malcolm. He never even noticed its absence." Donna's eyes twinkled as she extended her hand to Felicity. „As things turned out, however, I'm glad the monstrosity is back in my possession. It can provide food and clothing to those who need them."

„Mama."

„Take it, Felicity. You know as well as I that I was once as dedicated as you to the poor. We also know why I ceased my attempts to help them. My only way now is through you. So take the brooch. Find a jeweler who will pay dearly for it. Then take the money to the vicar. Do it today, before Malcolm returns."

Tears of gratitude clogged Felicity's throat. „Thank you, Mama," she whispered.

After a long, silent moment, Donna cleared her throat. „When you asked to speak with me, I thought at first it might have something to do with Mr. Deard … the Duke of Starling," she amended.

Felicity drew back, startled. „You know?"

„Know what? That you're drawn to him? That there's something between the two of you … probably more than even I suspect? I've lost my youth, Felicity, not my intuition. I'm still a woman, and I remember what it's like to fall in love." A faraway look came into her eyes, a memory of a woman who was no longer, a love not destined to be.

Studying her mother's face, Felicity was struck by a sudden realization, one she was amazed she'd never before considered. „The way you say that … there was someone else in your life, wasn't there, Mama? Someone before Father?"

Donna lowered her gaze. „That was many years ago, and ill fated from the start. There's little point in dredging it up now. Besides," she took Felicity's hand between both of hers. „I'd rather hear about you and the duke."

„You're not shocked?"

„Why would I be? He's handsome, charming, and, from what I witnessed at the Stakes, both clever and charismatic. Not to mention that he couldn't take his eyes off you."

„Mama." Felicity moistened her lips. „Oliver and Father ..."

„Do business together," Donna supplied. „I've noticed the duke arrive at Merlyn Manor several times for meetings with Malcolm. I've also glimpsed him leaving the manor … but not the grounds. I presume he was seeking you out."

„Yes, he was. Mama," Felicity tried again, „I know Father conducts business with Oliver. But that doesn't mean he'd accept him as my suitor."

Donna nodded resignedly. „I don't pretend to concur with your father's ideas on class distinction. But, in this case, the point is a moot one. True, last week your Oliver was a commoner. But all that's changed now. He's a duke. And even Malcolm could find no objection to your association with such a high-ranking nobleman."

Felicity bit her tongue, wishing she could blurt out the truth: that her mother was wrong, that the hostility existing between Oliver and her father went far deeper than the difference in their social standing.

„You care for him a great deal, don't you?" Donna pressed softly.

„You sound like Mr. Lance."

A faint smile. „Do I?"

„Yes. He asked me the same question."

„And what was your answer?"

"My answer was, yes, I care for Oliver. So much that it leaves me breathless. He makes me feel safe and protected and, in some unknown but extraordinary way, treasured. I'm not certain how else to describe it."

„You've described it perfectly. Now, tell me what you're going to do about these wondrous feelings of yours?"

Felicity took a deep breath. „Oliver has asked me to marry him, Mama."

Two tears slid down Donna's cheeks, and, impatiently, she dashed them away. „Pay no attention to my foolish, motherly tears. I'm thrilled for you, darling. Truly, I am."

„I don't think Father will share your joy," Felicity cautioned, choosing her words with the utmost care. „Oliver might be a duke, but he grew up in the streets, which is hardly the type of background Father would consider appropriate for my husband."

„The duke proposed to you, not Malcolm," Donna surprised her by replying. „Your feelings … and Oliver's are all that's important. Don't let anything else deter you."

Quizzically, Felicity studied her mother, wondering at the unprecedented fervor in Donna's tone and the ill-fated love that inspired it. With great difficulty, she restrained herself from asking, sensing that her mother was not yet ready to share that chapter of her life. „I haven't given Oliver my answer yet."

„Why not?"

„Everything happened so quickly. I needed time to think."

Donna stroked her daughter's hair. „Felicity, listen to your heart. If you don't, you'll regret it for the rest of your life. Believe me, I speak from experience." That faraway look reappeared, then vanished. „Now, when will your duke return for his answer?"

„Today."

In response, Donna pressed the brooch into Felicity's palm. „Then I suggest you hurry off and dispose of this repulsive trinket. Give the money to the vicar, then fly home to greet Oliver."

Felicity kissed her mother's cheek. „Thank you, Mama. Thank you for everything."

„It's barely dawn, Your Grace. And, I repeat, I can't help you."

The butler addressed Oliver with arrogant censure, simultaneously blocking his entry into the manor. „I've specified, three times, in fact, that Lord Merlyn is in London."

„And I've specified, three times, in fact, that if such is the case I insist on seeing Lady Felicity." Oliver was fast losing his patience. He'd barely had time to bathe and change his clothing before riding to Merlyn Manor. He was in no mood to argue with an bad-tempered servant who was hell-bent on thwarting his attempts to see Felicity.

„It appears that Lady Felicity has gone out."

„Out?" Oliver stifled the urge to choke him. „At dawn? Where?"

„I really couldn't say, Your Grace."

„Perhaps I can be of some assistance." Donna's tentative voice drifted from the hallway. „I'll speak to the duke."

The butler started, then swerved to face the marchioness. „Very well, Madam," he agreed with a bow. Casting one last distasteful look at Oliver, he stalked off.

„Good morning, Your Grace." Donna smiled as she approached him.

„Lady Merlyn, thank you for seeing me. I apologize for arriving at this ungodly hour. I hope I didn't disturb your sleep."

„Not at all. As you can see, I'm up and dressed." Donna hovered in the doorway. „Forgive me for not inviting you in. To be candid, I'm simply too much of a coward."

„I understand." Oliver nodded gravely, besieged, once again, by a wave of compassion for this gentle, broken woman, and the indignities she must suffer. „I assume the marquis is not at home?"

„No, or I wouldn't be taking this chance. He's not due home until late this afternoon."

„I see."

„But then, you're not here to call on Malcom, are you? You're here for Felicity."

Oliver started, carefully searching Donna's face. How much had Felicity told her?

„She said she was expecting you today," Donna eased his way by supplying. „But I don't think she expected you quite this early. Otherwise, I know she'd be home to receive you."

„So she really is out?"

„Yes. She left Merlyn Manor about an hour ago."

„Before dawn? Why?"

Donna studied the intricate pattern of the marble floor.

„I'm not free to discuss Felicity's activities with you, sir. I can tell you that her intentions are sound."

„She is well, though?"

At that, Donna's head came up. „Yes." Her gaze locked with Oliver's. „Safe and well. You can see for yourself later today."

„All right, I shall." Oliver nodded, convinced Felicity's mother spoke the truth. „Would you give her a message for me, please? Tell her I'll be back for tea and a reply."

„Very well."

„And one thing more."

„Yes?"

„If your husband returns, tell him of my impending visit. I want him to expect me."

A shadow of fear crossed Donna's face. „I'll see that Malcolm receives word of your forthcoming call, Your Grace." Nervously, she glanced about the deserted hallway.

„Now I have a message for you." She leaned toward Oliver. „Keep Felicity safe," she whispered. „And make her happy. Please."

A current of communication ran between them.

„I shall, Madam," Oliver replied solemnly. „You have my word."

The noon hour was approaching, and Covent Garden bustled with activity.

Felicity shifted from one aching foot to the other, wishing she had some idea where to find the highest-paying buyer for her mother's brooch. In the several hours since she'd arrived in London, she'd cautiously wandered the streets, ducking whenever she saw a man who even remotely resembled her father. She was taking an enormous risk, and she knew it. But the high price she intended to procure for the brooch could not be found in her little village. Hence, she'd appealed to the vicar, using the only avenue of persuasion she knew would succeed: the children, and how much this money would mean to them. Muttering a fervent prayer for her safety, the vicar had arranged for a carriage, and Felicity had been off to London.

Her goal had been to conduct her business and be gone within the hour. What a childish, naive idea that proved to be.

The eminent West End jewelers were acquainted with her father, which made dealing with them akin to suicide. Should they breathe a word of her actions to him … Felicity shuddered at the thought. So, she'd limited herself to the lesser-known, more modest proprietors elsewhere in London, very few of whom, she soon discovered, could be trusted.

Covent Garden was her last resort.

The inn keeper she'd approached two blocks from here had mumbled something about a man named Thompson, a jeweler who reputedly paid well and asked no questions.

Now all she needed to do was find him.

„You did well, my friend."

Frowning in concentration, Thompson pried a single emerald from the last garish necklace, studying each of the stone's glittering facets. „Every one of these trinkets you brought me is worth a pretty penny. Now I see why you made that long trip to Mansfield to steal them."

Oliver nodded, stretching his booted legs out in front of him. „I thought you might come to that conclusion once you'd seen the spoils from last night's venture. Now, tell me, how much are they worth?"

„I'll need a few minutes to figure that out." Thompson set down the stone, his eyes alight with curiosity. „What I can't figure out is why you couldn't get here last night. You know I hate doing this type of business during the day."

„I have my reasons. As for your concerns, that's why we meet in your back room. If you're suddenly swarmed with avid patrons," Oliver's sarcasm clearly indicated he didn't see that as a likelihood, „you can sprint right up front and sell them your wares. No one need ever know I hover in wait."

As if to challenge Oliver's skepticism, a bell tinkled, indicating that someone had entered the shop.

„You were saying?" Thompson asked triumphantly, smoothing his worn coat. „It appears I have a customer."

„It appears so. You'd better hurry, before he discovers your seedy reputation and races back where he came." Chuckling at Thompson's poisonous look, he folded his arms behind his head. „I shall patiently await your return. Don't bleed the chop too badly."

Thompson swore under his breath, then pasted a smile on his face as he exited from the front room.

„May I help you … ma'am?"

Whoever his female patron was, Oliver mused, Thompson sounded totally taken aback. She was either rife with gaudy jewels or blatantly available. Oliver grinned, listening.

„I hope so," a feminine voice replied. „I was told you purchase fine jewelry. What can you offer me for this elaborate brooch?"

Oliver's grin vanished, and he came to his feet like a bullet. That voice belonged to Felicity.

He took two strides forward, then checked himself. What the hell was she doing here? Before he charged out and dragged her from Thompson's disreputable clutches, he had to know.

„Hmm," Thompson was saying. „The brooch is well made, the pattern ornate. Did you have a specific price in mind?"

„I see." Oliver could almost hear Thompson's slimy little wheels turning. „Well, let's have a closer look. Ah, I didn't notice this at first."

„Notice what?"

„The stones are a bit cloudy. And the quality of the engraved gold?" A deep sigh. „Passable at best." A pause. „I'll be as generous as I can, my good lady. I'll give you one thousand pounds."

Felicity gasped. „A thousand pounds? Why, the brooch is worth more than three times that amount."

„Really? Have you actually been offered that lavish sum?"

Silence.

„You appear to be a sensible young woman. Also one who is eager, for reasons that are none of my concern, to sell your jewels here, rather than in a more appropriate, fashionable establishment in the West End. Therefore, I shall disregard my better judgment and raise my initial offer. I'll give you fifteen hundred pounds for the brooch." He sighed dramatically. „I'll take a large loss, no doubt, but I always was a fool for a beautiful lady in distress."

„You're robbing me. I'm well aware of that. But I haven't any ..."

That did it.

Oliver lifted his chair and banged it loudly against the wall, not once, but twice.

„Shouldn't you check to see what that commotion is?" Felicity asked, her voice trembling with the anguish of her decision.

„No. I'm sure it's nothing."

Oliver took an empty ale bottle and let it crash to the floor. „Perhaps someone has broken into your shop!" Felicity exclaimed.

Thompson couldn't wave away that possibility without arousing Felicity's suspicions. „It's probably some stray cats who wandered in searching for food," he muttered. „But I'll check. Wait here."

A moment later he plunged into the back room.

„What the hell are you doing?" he whispered angrily at Oliver.

„Summoning you." Oliver's eyes were blazing. „Now the question is, what the hell are you doing?"

„Business!"

„You're stealing that young woman's money."

Thompson blinked in disbelief. „Coming from you, that's almost funny."

„I don't find it the least bit amusing. My targets are greedy noblemen, not helpless women." A muscle worked in Oliver's jaw. „Offer her five thousand pounds."

„What?"

„You heard me. Get out there and offer her five thousand pounds for that bloody brooch."

„Are you insane? I can't sell that thing for ..."

„I'll buy it."

A long pause.

„_You'll_ buy it?" Thompson stared. „Why?"

„That's my concern."

„You haven't even seen it."

„Neither do I care to. Just do as I say. Now."

Thompson shook his head in amazement. „You're a bloody lunatic, you know that, Dearden? A bloody lunatic. What am I supposed to tell her? That I abruptly changed my mind and realized the brooch was worth a fortune?"

„You'll think of something. You're good at that."

With a disgusted grunt, Thompson turned on his heel and stalked out.

„Is everything all right?" Oliver heard Felicity ask.

„Hmm? Oh, yes, everything is fine. Some boxes just fell over and knocked a bottle to the floor. A bit of a mess, but nothing serious."

„I'm glad." Felicity inhaled sharply. „Mr. Thompson ..."

„While I was cleaning up the shattered glass, I suddenly remembered a particular customer of mine, an eccentric old lady whose particular tastes run to sapphires and rubies. As I recall, she's willing to pay a fortune for a piece made entirely of those two stones combined. She'll be ecstatic when she sees your brooch. Doubtless she will buy it on the spot, no matter what the cost." He paused for effect. „So, since I won't have to take that loss after all, I'm going to be a gentleman and offer you five thousand pounds."

„Five thousand pounds!" she managed. „But you said the brooch wasn't worth anywhere near that amount."

„Worth is a relative term. I'm a fair man. If I make a profit, you make a profit. So, how about it? Is five thousand pounds more like what you had in mind?"

„You're certain this woman will pay enough to compensate you? I wouldn't want ..."

„I'm sure."

Felicity made no attempt to hide her relief. „That's wonderful. Consider the brooch yours. And I thank you very, very much."

There was a rustle of activity as the exchange was made.

Then, the jingling bell indicating Felicity's departure sounded. Simultaneously, Thompson re-entered the rear chamber.

„Christ!" the jeweler exclaimed. „Instead of snatching that ludicrous sum and bolting before I came to my senses, she's worried about my profit? She's as daft as you! Doesn't she know a gift when she's handed one?"

„Perhaps she has a conscience."

Thompson shot Oliver a suspicious look. „And you? You just paid five thousand pounds for this." He tossed Oliver the brooch. „Now are you going to tell me why?"

„No." Oliver leaned forward, snatching up the single emerald Thompson had removed from the stolen necklace and shoving it into his pocket along with the brooch. „These are mine. And these," he extracted ten five hundred pound notes and thrust them at Thompson, „are yours."

The jeweler shook his head as he accepted the proffered money. „I still say you're crazy. But that's your problem. In any case, we're even except for what I owe you for the impressive spoils you brought in today."

„Keep the jewels … and the money you make on them."

„Why?"

Oliver grinned, already halfway out the door. „Don't you know a gift when you're handed one?" He was gone before Thompson could reply.


	13. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

Merlyn was in the foulest of tempers when he stormed into the manor in the mid afternoon, still irked by having been dragged into an unproductive two-day excursion to London. Diggle's missive had led him to believe that the insurance claim on his stolen jewels was finalized, when all the solicitor really needed were more signatures on yet more documents.

If he weren't so eager to avoid another meeting with Dearden, he would have discharged Diggle on the spot and taken his leave. As it was, however, he'd stayed and signed the bloody papers … whatever purpose they served … and lingered in Town, hoping against hope that the payment of his compensation would move along faster.

It wasn't.

„Where are the marchioness and Lady Felicity?" he barked now, spying his butler.

„The marchioness wasn't expecting you for several hours, my lord," the servant replied. „But I believe she is in her chambers. Lady Felicity has yet to return to Merlyn Manor."

„Return? Return from where?"

„I don't know, sir. As I advised the duke, she didn't tell me her destination, neither did I see her leave. It was quite early."

„The duke?" A vein throbbed in Merlyn's temple.

„The Duke of Starling, my lord. He was here at dawn, asking for both you and Lady Felicity."

„Why the hell would he want to see my daughter?" Merlyn didn't wait for an answer. He was already heading down the hall toward the staircase.

Taking the steps two at a time, he rounded the second-floor landing and, an instant later, flung open the door to his wife's bed chamber.

„Malcolm!" Donna rose from her needlepoint, surprise and fear mixing on her face. „You've arrived home earlier than expected."

„Evidently." He shut the door behind him. „Where is Felicity?"

Donna wet her lips with the tip of her tongue. „I told her you wouldn't be home until later. Otherwise, I'm sure she'd be ..."

„I didn't ask you why she wasn't here!" he snapped. „I asked you where she was."

Silence.

„Has she gone to visit that miserable vicar again?"

„I'm not certain precisely where she is," Donna replied truthfully.

„Really? Then suppose I ride to the village. I'm confident I can locate her."

„He's her only friend, Malcolm." Donna's eyes pleaded with him. „There can be no harm if she spends a few hours at the church."

Rage ignited and spread swiftly through the marquis„She's been away from the manor since dawn. By now, knowing Felicity's pathetically soft heart, Lance has doubtless convinced her to join him in yet another of his blasphemous crusades for the poor. Well, I've warned her one time too many." He turned on his heel. „This time is the last."

„Malcolm, wait!" Donna grabbed his arm. „Please don't."

He flung her aside. „Get out of my way!"

„For God's sake, let her be," she pleaded, recovering her balance. „Give her a chance to be happy."

Something about Donna's tone gave Malcolm pause. He turned, eyes narrowed on his wife's face.

„Happy? What does that mean?"

Instantly, she recognized her faux pas. „Only that Felicity has done everything you've demanded for twenty years. It's time she was allowed to pursue her own life."

„Her own life?" Suspicion tempered outrage. „She's been sneaking off to visit that weak-minded vicar since she was a child. Why would those visits suddenly alter her life?" He bore down on his wife in a flash, one hand closing around her throat. „Tell me, Donna. What are Felicity and the vicar planning?"

„I didn't mean the vicar," Donna denied, her eyes wide with terror. „I meant ..." She broke off.

„Who?" His grip tightened. „Who else could Felicity be consorting with." A new thought struck. „Dearden?" His affirmation came in the acceleration of Donna's pulse. „It is Dearden, isn't it? Is that why he asked for Felicity earlier today when he invaded my home?"

Donna sucked in air. „The duke came to see you. He plans to return to Merlyn Manor later this afternoon. He asked me to tell you so."

„Did he? And whom will he be visiting, Felicity, or me?"

Again, silence.

„Why did he want to see our daughter?" A muscle flexed in Merlyn's cheek. „Is that bastard involving Felicity in his attempt to bleed me? Is he?" His fingers dug into Donna's throat.

„Malcolm, please. You're choking me." She caught at his hand, fought to free herself.

In one violent motion, he hurled her against the wall, watching with callous brutality as she crumpled to the floor. „I'll do worse than that if you've encouraged her to deceive me." He headed toward the door. „You'd best pray my suspicions prove false, Donna. Else your life won't be worth a damn."

„Where are you going?" she whispered in a tiny, broken voice.

He turned, his features distorted by rage. „To teach our daughter the lesson of a lifetime."

„She's as as beautiful as she looked in the shop window," Felicity declared, holding up the flaxen-haired doll for the vicar's inspection. „Don't you think so?"

„I think you're going to make little Thea happier than she ever dreamed possible," he replied, continuing their walk toward the schoolhouse.

„I know what one special doll can mean to a little girl," Felicity murmured, reliving, once again, that long-ago moment at the House of Eternal Hope … the child's unforgettable stare as vivid now as it had been twelve years past. „I couldn't bear for Thea to be deprived of that joy."

„I understand." They trudged on in silence. „I was worried to death about you, Snowdrop," the vicar admitted at last. „You were gone for hours."

„I'm sorry. I expected to be back much earlier. But it proved more difficult than I'd imagined to find a buyer for Mama's brooch."

The vicar's brows rose in surprise. „I would have thought the piece would be snatched right up. To me, it appeared quite lavish, a source of profit for any jeweler."

„It was. The merchants were unanimously enthusiastic. Unfortunately, their ethics fell short of their enthusiasm. I had quite a time finding a jeweler who was even moderately honest."

„I see."

„In any case, I did finally locate one who, for reasons of his own, chose not to rob me."

Abruptly, the vicar recalled something Felicity didn't know. „Speaking of robbing, it seems your bandit struck again last night."

She stopped in her tracks. „He did? Where? What happened?"

„From what I've heard thus far, he invaded the Earl of Gaynor's Mansfield estate, making off with a vast assortment of jewelry, silver, and funds. Coincidentally," the vicar's lips curved, „hours later the Mansfield workhouse was the happy recipient of thirty-five hundred pounds."

„No one saw him?"

„No. Except for you, Snowdrop, no one has ever seen him."

„Then he's safe." Felicity raised her eyes to the heavens, more grateful now than ever before. „Thank God." She resumed walking.

„I see you're still captivated by this altruistic hero of yours," the vicar commented with a sideways glance. „I thought perhaps that would change in light of your feelings for Oliver Dearden."

„One has nothing to do with the other. Oliver is a wonderful, compelling man. The bandit is…" Her voice trailed off.

„Yes?"

„I was going to say the bandit is a savior. But in his own way, so is Oliver. The difference is the bandit rescues many; Oliver has only to rescue me."

„Both roles are indispensable."

Felicity smiled. „Thank you." Absently, she studied the doll she'd cautiously removed from her wardrobe and transported to the church at dawn, stroking the pink satin gown. „Let's hurry, Vicar," she urged suddenly, picking up her pace as they neared the schoolhouse. „As it is, we'll miss the older children. They've doubtless gone home to do their chores. But I so want to see the little ones."

Miss Smith opened the door moments later, a surprised expression on her face. „Vicar, Lady Felicity. I didn't expect you today." She cast a quick look over her shoulder, her brow furrowed. „Our lessons are over. Half the children have already taken their leave."

„Are the younger ones still about?" Felicity asked eagerly. „Tommy? Roy? Thea? I apologize for arriving so late and without any notice but there truly wasn't a choice, and I so want to see them. We won't stay but a few minutes, I promise."

„You'd be wise to agree, Miss Smith," the vicar added with pointed authority. „Lady Felicity has a miraculous gift to share with all of you."

„Gift?" The schoolmistress's speculative gaze fell on the doll in Felicity's hands. „Very well." She shrugged, evidently unimpressed by what she saw. „Come in."

„Felicity!" Tommy fairly flew to the door, his eyes wide with delight. „See, Roy? I told you she'd be back."

„Of course I'm back." Felicity ruffled Tommy's hair. „Did you doubt it?"

„Well, you said you would be back sooner, and Roy thought that maybe you didn't like us much."

„I apologize for my tardiness," Felicity said solemnly, her gaze meeting Roy's. „But I was needed at home and couldn't get away. Then I wasted a great deal of time trying to coax Flash into joining me."

„Did you bring him?" Tommy interrupted, looking expectantly about.

„No, I'm afraid not." Felicity sighed. „As I'm sure you've discovered with your lizard, animals often have minds of their own."

„Yeah." Tommy's nod was sympathetic. „Speedy won't stay in the bed I made him, even though I put lots of grass and bugs and stuff in there. He keeps crawling out at night. The other day he was in my mum's basin when she went to wash. Boy, was she mad."

Felicity fought her smile. „Thank you for understanding. I promise to keep trying to soften Flash's attitude."

„Is it true you were robbed? That the Green Arrow Bandit was at your house?" Tommy demanded.

Felicity exchanged glances with the vicar. „Yes, it's true."

„Tell us," Roy urged, his reserve vanishing in a heartbeat.

„There isn't much to tell. It was the night after my last visit here. He took all our valuables and, evidently, donated the money to a workhouse."

„Wow! Did you see him? Did you talk to him? Did you ..."

„I believe Lady Felicity has something for us," Miss Smith broke in, unknowingly sparing Felicity the strain of evading Tommy's inflammatory questions.

„Yes, I do. The first part is for Thea." Smiling, Felicity gestured toward the child, who was hiding behind Roy, her eyes glued to the doll in Felicity's hands. „I see you're wearing your lovely new dress," Felicity encouraged, as Thea took a tentative step in her direction. „Did you guess I'd be visiting today?"

„No." Thea's reply was a barely audible whisper. „I just wear it all the time … hoping."

Emotion constricted Felicity's throat. „Well, your hopes must be magic. Because it helped bring me here today. And what's more, I've brought along a new friend." She held out her arms. „Here is that lonely doll I mentioned to you. She was ecstatic when I told her she would be getting a home and someone to love her."

„Dolls don't talk," Tommy protested. „Ow!" He glared at Roy, rubbing his ribs where the other boy had poked him.

„They only talk to those who listen," Felicity amended with a conspiratorial wink at Thea. „Right?"

Mesmerized, Thea nodded, walking over and touching the hem of the doll's gown. „She's so beautiful," she whispered. Her eyes were huge, filled with hope. „Is she really mine?"

„She is indeed." Felicity placed her in Thea's arms. „Now it's up to you to cherish her. And, of course, to name her. Have you thought of a name?"

Thea shook her head.

„Well, take your time in doing so. Her name must fit her perfectly."

„Like Snowdrop fits you?" the child asked with a shy smile.

„Like Snowdrop fits me," Felicity agreed, feeling a warm tug at her heart. „Now, for the rest of you. I had hoped to bring you baskets of food and clothing for the winter. Unfortunately, that appears to be impossible at this time. However," she removed the stack of notes from her pocket, „I want you each to take a portion of this money and bring it home to your parents. I'll leave enough with Miss Smith to distribute to the other students tomorrow. The rest will be spent on a new roof for the school and new books and benches for everyone. How would that be?"

Miss Smith's eyes bulged at the sight of the enormous sum. „My goodness! There must be ..."

„Five thousand pounds," the vicar supplied. „Every penny of which Lady Felicity is contributing to our school and its children."

„I see." The schoolmistress's eyes narrowed. „Why?" she blurted.

Felicity flinched, silencing the vicar's oncoming protest with a gentle touch of his arm. „Because you're my friends," she replied simply. „And friends help each other." Lowering her gaze, she began counting out bills.

„That's an awful lot of money, Felicity," Tommy said, his freckled face delighted and amazed all at once. „Where did you get it?"

„That's my little secret."

„Like the Green Arrow Bandit!"

A private smile played about Felicity's lips. „A bit, yes. Only not nearly as exciting and mysterious." She moved from child to child, carefully placing several hundred pound notes in each of their hands. „Guard these carefully, and make certain to deliver them to your parents, all right?"

A series of heads bobbed up and down.

„That's quite a generous sum Lady Felicity is donating," Miss Smith muttered to the vicar.

„Yes, it is."

„What does the marquis have to say about it?"

The vicar turned to regard her soberly. „I think you know the answer to that question. Lord Merlyn has no knowledge of Felicity's contribution. You also know that, should he learn about it, he'd swoop down upon us in an instant and seize every last shilling … not to mention what he'd do to his daughter. Felicity is taking quite a risk, bless her tender heart, and asking for nothing in return. Therefore, I strongly urge you to forget the source of your endowment. Permanently. Am I making myself clear, Miss Smith?"

„Perfectly, Vicar." The schoolmistress flushed in embarrassment. „I didn't mean to appear ungrateful."

„Perhaps not. But it would serve you well to open your heart, at least enough to recognize true goodness when it stares you in the face." With that, he walked off, coming to stand behind Felicity. „It's getting late, Snowdrop. We should be on our way."

„I know." Reluctantly, Felicity nodded.

„Already?" Tommy protested. „But you just got here."

„The sun is beginning to set, Tommy," Miss Smith intervened. „We want Lady Felicity to have a safe and uneventful walk home. That way she'll be more inclined to continue indulging us with her visits."

Felicity looked up in surprise, seeing the schoolmistress's pudgy cheeks lift in a semblance of a smile.

„Well, all right." Tommy chewed his lip. „Felicity, do you think Flash will come with you next time?"

„I hope so," Felicity grinned. „But remember, foxes can be as difficult as lizards. You understand."

„I sure do." He stood up tall.

Thea tugged at Felicity's skirt, clutching the flaxen-haired doll to her chest. „Thank you," she said in a breath of a whisper.

Felicity hugged her. „Now, remember, Thea, you have to love her with all your heart, and choose just the right name for her. All right?"

A wide-eyed nod.

„Good. Then you can properly introduce us on my next visit." The school clock chimed and Felicity's smile vanished. „I must be getting home."

„Yes, indeed you must." Lance urged her toward the door. „Good day, children, Miss Smith."

„Good day." Miss Smith followed them outside, looking as if she wanted to say more. „God bless you, Lady Felicity," she barked suddenly. „God bless you both." Red faced, she disappeared into the school.

The vicar and Felicity looked at each other and dissolved into laughter.

"I think you've even managed to thaw Miss Smith," he chuckled, guiding Felicity toward the road. „And to think there are those who claim miracles don't exist."

They'd just begun their walk when a speeding carriage rounded the bend, bearing down on them and screeching to a halt.

Felicity went sheet-white as her father leapt from the carriage.

„Why am I not surprised to find you here."

„Father. I … I ..."

„You were visiting those filthy bastards again, weren't you? Even though I expressly forbade it."

„Malcolm ..." the vicar began.

„Shut up!" Merlyn's head snapped around, his eyes blazing with rage. „How dare you encourage my daughter to disobey me? You, who presume to call yourself a man of the cloth? If I have my way you'll lose your parish, your home, and your reputation."

„Father, no!" Felicity shook her head emphatically. „The vicar has done nothing. It was my idea to visit the children, not his."

„Get in the carriage," Merlyn bit out through clenched teeth. „I'll deal with your vicar later."

Felicity's whole body began to tremble.

„Did you hear me? Get in that carriage!" He grabbed her arm, twisting it violently as he dragged her with him. A cry of pain escaped Felicity's lips.

„Let her go, Merlyn." Oliver's voice sliced the air like a bullet.

„Oliver?" Felicity's head whipped around, and she stared at him, stunned.

„Well, Your Grace, why am I not surprised to find you here as well?" The marquis made no move to relinquish his punishing grip.

„I don't think you heard me." Oliver advanced toward him, predatory hatred glinting in his eyes. „I said take your filthy hands off Felicity."

Merlyn's lip curled in a snarl. „You insolent bastard. How dare you interfere. This," he jerked Felicity's arm, eliciting another muted cry of pain, „is my daughter. I'll deal with her in whatever manner I choose."

Liked a coiled viper, Oliver struck, lunging forward, his fist cracking into Merlyn's jaw. „Not any more, you won't."

„Oliver, don't!" Falling free of her father's hold, Felicity regained her balance in time to see Malcolm retaliate. Charging at Oliver, he swung violently, his fist aimed at Oliver's jaw.

The blow never found its mark.

Oliver caught Merlyn's arm, simultaneously slamming his own fist into the marquis's gut … once, twice, three times. Dragging air into his lungs, he watched Merlyn fold at his feet. „Get up, you son of a bitch. Get up and find out what a gutter rat does best."

„Oliver!" Felicity blocked Oliver's path, begging him in the instant before the marquis rose. „Don't do this!"

Ignoring Felicity entirely, Oliver stood rigid, staring down at Merlyn and awaiting his next onslaught. The venom darkening his gaze was blistering in its intensity, but somehow Felicity was not afraid. Instinctively she knew Oliver was somewhere else, somewhere far away, and it was up to her to bring him back.

„Oliver!" She gripped his lapels, shaking him. „Please," she added in a wrenching whisper.

Slowly, he glanced down, seeming to see her for the first time. „Felicity." He reached out, touched her arm. „Are you all right?"

That brief contact seemed to infuse the marquis with renewed ire. Gasping, he shoved himself to his feet. „Don't lay one lowlife finger on my daughter." He thrust Felicity aside, unsteadily preparing to deliver his next punch.

„Stop it, Father." Felicity stepped between them.

„Stand aside, Felicity," he shot back.

„No!"

Merlyn's eyes bulged. „You dare defy me?" he thundered.

„Yes." Her chin came up. „I dare to defy you."

„Why you insolent …"

„Strike her and you're a dead man, Merlyn." Oliver's voice was lethally quiet. „Not just now, but ever. As of today, Felicity is no longer your concern or your victim."

„I'm her father, you repulsive bastard."

„And I'm her husband."

The proclamation erupted like thunder, a deadly silence hovering in its wake.

„You're lying," Malcolm spat at last.

„No, Malcolm, he's not. I married them today. In my church."

The vicar's false declaration jolted through Felicity, and she jerked about, staring at him in amazement.

Utterly composed, he continued, addressing the marquis. „Now cease this violence at once. It will accomplish nothing."

„You married ..." Merlyn was still reeling. „Who else was present at this farce of a wedding?" Another silence.

„Donna." Malcom abruptly answered his own question. „So that's what my faithless wife was desperate to keep from me, damn her. Well, I'll deal with her first. Then I'll have this bloody marriage annulled."

„No, Father, you won't," Felicity heard herself say. „The decision was mine, and I've made it. Neither threats nor violence can alter that fact."

Merlyn's fists clenched and unclenched. „We'll see about that," he ground out through gritted teeth. Abruptly, he turned, climbed into his carriage, and disappeared in a cloud of dust.

„Mama," Felicity murmured, gripping Oliver's sleeve in alarm.

„I'll have her out of the manor before Merlyn arrives home."

„But he's already on his way."

„I'm faster. Trust me."

Felicity looked up at him through bewildered eyes. „I have no idea what just happened."

The lines of fury on Oliver's face eased, a corner of his mouth lifting slightly. „I believe you just accepted my marriage proposal."

„Evidently, I did." She turned to the vicar. „You lied. Blatantly. You've never done that before."

„Neither have I done so now. I merely told Malcolm I married you and the duke today in my church. Which I fully intend to do, just as soon as the duke returns from Merlyn Manor with your mother." Lance frowned. „If Malcom should reach Donna first ..."

„He won't." Oliver was in motion again. „My mount is just beyond those trees. I'll ride through the woods, bypassing the village and traveling as the crow flies. I'll beat Merlyn by a good quarter hour. I'll meet you at the church with the marchioness. Now go." He vanished into the cluster of trees.

A moment later, the sound of galloping hooves and snapping twigs reached Felicity's ears. Then, silence.

„Your savior, I believe you said. A most accurate description." The vicar nodded with satisfaction. „He's a fine man, Snowdrop. You've chosen well."

„My husband." Felicity shook her head dazedly. „Is this really happening?"

„Indeed it is. And I suggest we hasten to the church in order to make what limited arrangements we can. Although," tenderly, he patted her cheek, „regardless of what we do, you will be the most beautiful of brides." He cast a worried glance toward the woods. „I only pray your Oliver reaches Donna before it's too late."

„He will." A smile of infinite wonder played about Felicity's lips. „Oliver always answers prayers."


	14. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

The last rays of daylight had just disappeared from view when the church door burst open.

„Felicity!" Hastening forward, Donna embraced her daughter, who was alone and pacing in the empty church.

„Mama, are you all right?"

„Yes, now that I've seen you" The marchioness anxiously searched Felicity's face. „I was so worried."

Felicity's gaze met Oliver's as he entered the room. „Thank you."

He nodded soberly. „My pleasure."

„Tell me what happened," Donna demanded. „Your father was wild with rage when he went looking for you. Mr. Dearden … pardon me … His Grace said they came to blows. He also said you wanted me with you; that the two of you are about to be married."

„Are you shocked?"

„By the marriage? No. Only by the urgency." Despite her emotional turmoil, Donna smiled. „As you recall, I already knew what your decision would be."

Hearing that, Oliver's brows rose, a self-satisfied grin curving his lips. „I'm delighted to learn you'd decided in my favor."

„Did you doubt it?" Felicity asked softly.

„At moments, yes."

Glancing from her daughter to Oliver, Donna asked, „Where did Malcolm find you and what happened?"

„You'd better sit down, Mama," Felicity replied. She drew her mother to a pew, lowering herself beside her. „Father thinks Oliver and I are already wedded."

Donna started. „Why would he think that?"

„Possibly because I told him so," Oliver supplied.

„But why?" Donna's eyes grew wide with fear. „Did he fund you and Felicity together?"

„It was worse than that," Felicity murmured. „He found me before the schoolhouse. I'd just returned from completing the errand you and I had discussed." She gave her mother a meaningful look. „I stopped in the village, first to visit the vicar, then the children. I was on my way to Merlyn Manor when Father appeared, enraged. Oliver interceded. One thing led to another, and ..." She broke off, inclining her head quizzically in Oliver's direction. „How did you arrive on the scene when you did?"

„I followed you."

„From the church?"

„From London."

„From London?" Felicity gasped. „How did you know?"

„I traveled to the Merlyn Manor at dawn, as promised. Your mother said you were out. I went to London to conduct some business, intending to return to your father's estate later today. I happened to spy you as your carriage left London. As you know, I was eager for your answer to my marriage proposal. So I followed you. I arrived at the church in time to see you and the vicar depart. Knowing how you feel about the village children, it wasn't difficult to determine your destination. So, I acted on instinct and rode to the school. Fortunately, my instinct was right."

A warm glow lit Felicity's eyes. „Isn't it always?"

„Most times, yes."

„Felicity," Donna interjected, „what incited the duke to lie to your father? What did Malcolm do to you?"

Felicity shuddered. „It isn't what he did to me, it's what he intended to do. I've never seen him so angry. Then, when Oliver informed him we were already wed, he went berserk. He seemed to believe we were all part of some conspiracy. He took off for Merlyn Manor ...to thrash you and to have my marriage annulled."

„So that's why you dragged me away so swiftly," Donna realized aloud, looking at Oliver with a mixture of gratitude and fear. „I thank you, sir. But it won't help. Eventually, I have to return to Merlyn Manor and Malcolm's wrath."

„No. You don't." Oliver shook his head. „Along with my title, I've acquired five enormous, currently unoccupied estates. Take your choice. You have only to move in. I'll arrange the rest."

A twinge of hope flickered, then died. „Malcolm will find me."

„I'm certain he will. But he'll never get past the men I will make sure are guarding the property." Oliver's lips quirked. „There are distinct advantages to growing up in the streets. One meets the most resourceful people."

„But the law says ..."

„One also learns to ignore the law, if need be."

Donna's mouth snapped shut. „I … Thank you, Your Grace."

„Oliver," he amended. „After all, within the hour we'll be a family. I believe a touch of informality would be in order."

The door at the head of the church opened. „Snowdrop, the license is now in order. I've also managed to amass an ample supply of wildflowers for your bouquet and enough candles to bathe the church in a suitably reverent glow." The vicar came to a halt. „Donna." He came forward in a rush. „Are you all right?"

She smiled a smile that, for once, reached her eyes. „It's wonderful to see you, Quentin. And yes, I'm quite well. Thanks to the duke … Oliver."

„And to God," the vicar murmured, looking over Donna as if to ensure himself of her safety. At last, he drew a slow, inward breath and glanced past her to Felicity and Oliver. „Let's proceed with the wedding then, shall we?"

With a flourish, he opened his book. „Dearly beloved ..."

Ageless words, timeless in duration, poignant in significance.

Felicity felt her hands tremble, heard the quiver in her voice as she recited her vows. A range of emotions engulfed her all at once: awe, disbelief, excitement, wonder.

But never doubt. And never fear.

Not with Oliver.

The vicar paused, having reached that portion of the ceremony involving the ring. „I nearly forgot," he murmured to himself. Digging into his pocket, he extracted a dainty silver band, two narrow circles endlessly entwined. „Given the unplanned urgency of this ceremony, I assume you hadn't time to shop," he began, the tremor in his voice belying the frivolity of his words. His gaze fell on the delicate scrap of silver in his hands, and he abandoned all pretense. „This ring means a great deal to me." He cleared his throat roughly. „I've kept it safe for years, somehow knowing it would one day be needed for just the right purpose. That day has arrived." He extended the ring to Oliver. „Please. It would be my pleasure, no, my privilege, if you would seal your vows by placing this band on Felicity's finger."

Visibly moved, Oliver accepted the clergyman's gift.

„Thank you, Vicar," Felicity whispered, wiping tears from her cheeks, vaguely aware of her mother's quiet weeping. „Not only is the ring lovely and symbolic, but, as it comes from you, it's value is immeasurable." She turned to Oliver and placed her hand in his, watching as he slid the band onto her fourth finger. Slowly, she raised her gaze to meet her new husband's.

„I now pronounce you man and wife," she heard the vicar proclaim.

A profound silence permeated the room.

Tenderly, Oliver cupped Felicity's face, and she was stunned to feel his hands tremble as he bent to brush her lips with his. „You're mine now, Snow flame," he said in a breath of a whisper. „No one will ever hurt you again."

Straightening, he extended his hand to the vicar. „Thank you. You're all Felicity claimed and more."

„I return the compliment." The vicar clasped Oliver's hand warmly. „I wish you a lifetime of joy." He kissed Felicity atop her head. „Be happy, Snowdrop."

Felicity hugged him, then her mother, feeling utterly light-headed and disoriented.

„Go," Lance said, seeing the dazed look in her eyes. „You and your new husband need time together."

„Mama?" Felicity turned to her mother.

„We'll take your mother to Starling," Oliver answered. „Until I can make other arrangements, she'll be the safest there."

„Oh, no." Donna shook her head, still dabbing at her eyes. „I won't impose. Not tonight. It's your wedding night."

Oliver grinned. „You won't be imposing. I'll leave you in my staff's capable hands, giving them strict instructions to advise all visitors that no one is home and no guests are permitted. Then, Felicity and I will travel on to my house in Wellingborough."

"In that case, I accept."

„Excellent. Then let's be on our way before the marquis begins tearing up Northamptonshire looking for you." Oliver frowned. „I hesitate to travel the main road, since we might run into him."

„I was quite a good rider in my youth," Donna put in. „And, though my practice over the years has been limited, I'm certain I can still take the woods at a breakneck pace … astride, incidentally, not sidesaddle." She gave Oliver a mischievous grin. „Does that ease our dilemma?"

„I begin to see whom Felicity takes after," Oliver chuckled. „Indeed, I ask only that you don't leave Felicity and me behind in the dust."

„I'll bear that in mind." Donna turned to the vicar and her smile faded. „Thank you, Quentin," she said softly. „I think you know what your love and protection of Felicity means to me."

„Perhaps Felicity isn't the only one who can now begin anew," he replied. „Perhaps your time has arrived, as well."

„Perhaps." She squeezed his hands. „God bless you," she whispered.

„Thank you, Vicar," Oliver repeated solemnly. „The doors at Starling and at Wellingborough are always open to you."

„Visit us," Felicity urged the vicar with a final hug. „Please."

„You couldn't keep me away." Glancing at the clock, he urged them toward the door. „Now go."

Two hours later, Oliver and Felicity rode up to the door of Oliver's Wellingborough residence. Dismounting, Oliver lifted Felicity from the saddle and lowered her feet to the ground.

„We're home," he said simply.

Felicity smiled, surveying the modest structure with a contented glow. „I'm glad. 'Home' is something new to me. I've never truly lived in one. Only a house."

Oliver's eyes darkened with emotion. „Let's go in."

Strolling about the sitting room, Felicity drank in the understated furnishings with infinite pleasure. „Lovely. Also very much you: solid, unpretentious, and overwhelmingly masculine."

„And that's only the sitting room," Oliver teased huskily, coming up behind her.

Felicity closed her eyes, leaned back against his reassuring strength. „I'm nervous. Isn't that ridiculous? I've withstood years with a violent and unpredictable father, taken stupid risks that yielded painful results, and married a man I've known but a fortnight all without succumbing to nerves. And now, when I'm on the verge of a night I've dreamed of, yearned for, my heart is pounding frantically and my stomach is churning. Absurd, wouldn't you say?"

„No." Oliver wrapped his arms about her waist, kissed the side of her neck. „Understandable, I would say. Understandable, and beautiful, and honest." He turned her into his arms. „I won't hurt you, Snow flame," he murmured, feathering his lips over hers.

„I know." She sighed blissfully. „I just keep wondering if I'm going to wake up and find this is all a dream, that the last few hours never occurred."

„You're not dreaming," he assured her, lifting her arms around his neck. „I promise you. This is very real and very right."

She gazed up at him, the trust in her eyes so absolute it made his chest tighten. „I know it's right," she whispered. „Somehow I always have. I just don't want to disappoint you."

„You never could." Oliver met her honesty with his own. „Would it help if you knew I was equally apprehensive?"

Startled, Felicity blinked. „You? Why?"

„Because it's never mattered so much. Because a woman has never mattered so much." He paused, forcing out the next words as if they were a death sentence. „Because there are things I need to tell you before I take you to bed. Things that could change your feelings about tonight."

Thoughtfully, Felicity searched his face. „You're going to fill in the missing pieces, tell me the real reasons for our hasty wedding."

„No," he amended, shaking his head vehemently. „I'm going to fill in the missing piece. But it has nothing to do with my wanting you for my wife, or with our hasty ceremony. I didn't intend to dash you down the aisle. That was strictly your father's doing. As for me, wanting you," he caressed the delicate curve of her waist, „I think you know how much I want you under my roof, under my protection," his eyes darkened, „under me."

A tiny shiver went through her. „But there is more. I sensed it from the moment you proposed."

„The late Duke of Starling ..." he faltered. „My father left several conditions in the codicil to his will. Specifically, there are two stipulations to my retaining possession of his coveted title and fortune. First, I must assume not only the role of the Duke of Starling, but all its pertinent responsibilities for a period of two years. And second, during that time, I must produce a legitimate heir to the dukedom. Once I've fulfilled those conditions I am free to resume my previous life as a commoner, retaining all access to the Starling estate."

„And if you fail?"

„I lose it all."

„I see." Felicity lowered her gaze, her long lashes brushing her cheeks.

„I don't want the bloody title. I think you know that. But I need it … for reasons I can't fully explain." Staring at her bowed head, his jaw clenched in frustration. „I can imagine what you're thinking. Here I've given you indisputable cause for doubt, perfect grounds for you to disbelieve all I've professed to feel. There's no earthly reason for you to trust me, and yet, that's just what I'm asking you to do. Do you see now why I was reluctant to tell all this to you?"

Felicity's lashes lifted, and Oliver was stunned to see tears of wonder shimmering in her eyes. „Yes." She laid her hand on his jaw, soothing away the tension with her fingertips. „You were reluctant to tell me because you were afraid you'd lose me. Yet you did tell me …. and before our union was complete … despite your qualms about my reaction." A shy smile hovered about her lips. „You took an unfavorable risk ... a forbiddance for a good gambler. And why? Because of your feelings for me. Caring and respect. I've never been offered such precious gifts before. Thank you, Oliver."

A harsh groan erupted from his chest. „Felicity." He enfolded her against him, his lips in her hair. „God, I need you."

„I need you, too," she whispered, shy and eager all at once. „Just tell me what to do."

His muscles tightened as he struggled with his next offer. „Snow flame. What's about to happen between us … there are ways to alter its outcome."

She leaned back, regarded him quizzically. „What do you mean?"

„You're a rare and priceless jewel, one that has been cruelly mistreated, and is only now on the brink of being treasured as it was meant to be. If you need time, there are ways ..."

„Are you saying you don't plan to make love to me?"

Oliver started. „Am I saying … No. That is definitely not what I'm saying." His restless gaze swept over her, his features hardening with desire. „I'm afraid that measure of nobility is beyond me."

„Then what are you saying?"

„I'm saying you're more than a vessel for my seed. If you're not ready to conceive a child, there are ways to prevent it."

Quizzically, Felicity inclined her head. „How?"

„I can refrain from spilling my seed inside you."

„Just like that?" Felicity looked puzzled rather than embarrassed. „Wouldn't that diminish your pleasure?"

„I'll survive. I've done so for years."

„I don't understand."

His smile was bitter. „I'm a bastard, Felicity. I grew up on the streets, never knowing who my father was or when my next meal would be. I swore to myself I'd never be responsible for doing that to another human being."

„You wouldn't be," she countered softly. „We're legally wed. Were I to conceive, our child would not be a bastard."

„The reason for my self-discipline would be different in our case, but no less valid. If and when we have a child, I want it to be a decision we both make, not one I make alone, and certainly not one incited by the addendum of my late sire's will."

„I see." Felicity nodded, reaching up to unfasten the top button of Oliver's shirt. „Well, then, if this discussion is finally at an end," she struggled with the next button, giving her husband a heart-melting smile, „I believe we've done enough talking on our wedding night." She slid her fingers inside to touch the warmth of Oliver's skin. „Will you please make love to me now?"

Her innocent question, her tentative explorations, blasted through his loins like cannon fire, obliterating every vestige of his staunch discipline. „Christ." He dragged her mouth to his, delving inside to taste her sweetness with all the urgency of a drowning man. He tore open his remaining buttons, covering her hand with his and guiding it along the hard, hair-roughened planes of his chest. „I want you so much I'm going to explode."

„Teach me how to please you," she urged, caressing his hot skin with feather-light strokes.

That did it. „Later." He swept her into his arms, crossed the sitting room in four long strides. „Much later. Right now, I can't even make it to a bed."

He paused at the sofa, bending to seize the row of brocade cushions, which he tossed, one by one, to the floor. Lowering Felicity to the makeshift bed, he followed her down, covering her with himself. „I'm going to make love to you until neither one of us can breathe," he vowed against her parted lips. Lifting her head, he spread her golden tresses out like a golden fan beneath them, tracing his fingers down the sides of her neck, her shoulders, absorbing each delicate shiver with a fierce sense of satisfaction as new to him as the frenzy pounding through his veins. His mouth left hers, blazing a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses down her throat, the upper slope of her breasts. He slid his arm beneath her, lifting her into his kisses and simultaneously tearing each hook of her gown from its casing until only her chemise stood between him and the treasure he craved.

He made quick work of that, tugging down both her gown and the undergarments, freeing first one arm then the other, lifting them to clasp about his neck. „You're beautiful," he breathed, baring her breasts to his gaze, his touch. „So bloody, incomparably beautiful." He watched her breath come faster, her nipples tightening beneath his heated gaze. Slowly, slowly, he lowered his head, surrounding one peak with his mouth, teasing it with his tongue.

Felicity cried out, arching reflexively, her fingers running through his hair.

Oliver deepened his caress, tugging and releasing until he was nearly wild, consumed by her taste and scent, her harsh pleas for more. He raised his head, panting, watching her flushed face, the look of wonder in her eyes.

„Don't stop." Felicity shifted restlessly, unconsciously beckoning him forward, urging him toward her other breast.

Instantly, he answered her plea, stroking the pad of his thumb over her sensitized nipple once, twice, finally bending to taste this breast as he had the other.

Suddenly, unbearably, it wasn't enough … not for either of them.

Vaulting to his feet, Oliver kicked off his boots, shedding his coat, open shirt, and waistcoat with the same predatory grace that accompanied all his actions. He dropped to his knees, easing Felicity's gown down and off, taking her chemise, stockings and petticoats with it.

Seconds later, she was naked, lying before him like an exquisite, ethereal goddess.

Nervously, Felicity stirred, watching his burning gaze lick over her, torn between the desire to cover herself and the equally powerful desire to launch herself into his arms.

Oliver met her stare. „You're flawless, Mrs. Dearden," he whispered roughly. Sensing her uncertainty, he reached out, took her hands in his. „See how I'm shaking?" he murmured, letting her feel the tremors of desire quivering through him. „I'm like an untried schoolboy. That's the effect you have on me." He kissed her palms. „Don't pull away, Snow flame. If I don't have you, I'll die."

„Oh, Oliver." She freed her hands, glided them up his chest to his shoulders. „I feel as if I was dying now. I ache so."

„Do you?" He stretched out beside her, gathering her close, intentionally rubbing her sensitized breasts against his chest, reveling in her moan of pleasure, her hard shudder. „God, I love the way you respond to me." He kissed her again, melding their tongues, their breath, beginning an intimate rhythm meant to drive them both out of their minds.

He succeeded.

Feeling Felicity undulate against him, Oliver devoured her with his hands, caressing her hips, her legs, the satiny skin of her inner thighs with strokes of fire, his control dangling precariously by a thread.

Unaware she was doing so, Felicity shredded that thread into tatters, instinctively parting her thighs and offering him the very core of all he craved.

His fingers found her, wet and warm and so breathtakingly ready for him it annihilated all reason from his mind. He entered her with one finger, groaning aloud at the clinging resistance. „So damned tight," he rasped, easing another finger in, stretching her gently to accommodate his penetration. „So excruciatingly tight and hot and ..." He broke off, unable to continue.

„Is that bad?" Felicity gasped, inadvertently gripping his fingers inside her. „Because I can't help ..."

„Christ." Oliver pulled away only long enough to shed the rest of his clothes. „No, it's not bad. It's perfect. You're perfect." He was already settling himself in the cradle of her thighs. „You need more time, more preparation. I can't give them to you." He braced himself on his forearms, easing into her beckoning warmth. „Felicity, I've got to be inside you. I'm going to ..." He threw back his head, groaning as he felt her inner muscles expand, stretch to accommodate him. „I'm going to hurt you, Snow flame. And I swore I wouldn't." He went deeper, his hips moving rhythmically with a will all their own. „Take me … now. God, I'm sorry. Felicity ..." In one inexorable thrust, he entered her, feeling her maidenhead give beneath the onslaught, burying himself deep, deep inside her.

Felicity cried out, a brief instant of sharp pain vanishing into a sense of fullness, converging with the overwhelming realization that Oliver was inside her.

Emotion, vast and fervent, surged to life, annihilating all traces of discomfort, transforming to wonder as Oliver began to move within her. Hard and fast, his powerful body drove forward, again and again, the taut muscles of his back contracting with each plunging thrust.

„Move with me," he rasped, lifting her legs about his waist. „Christ, Felicity, I can't stop."

Immersed in her husband's passion, impaled by his power, Felicity rose to meet him, clutching him to her, pulling him deeper, deeper each time, physical pleasure coiling so tight inside her she thought she'd die.

„Yes," Oliver growled in her ear, gripping her bottom and hauling her up, hard, until she cried out his name. „Just like that. Again. Yes, like that. Ah, God, Felicity."

A red haze exploded inside his head, toppling all his self-protective walls, stripping away any semblance of control he ever had. Driven by compulsion and yearning, he buried himself in his wife, groaning her name as he drove them closer and closer to the shattering brink of sensation.

„Oliver." Felicity dug her nails in his back, overwhelmed by the unknown pressure escalating inside her, threatening to tear her apart. „I ..."

„Yes." Feeling the coiled tension took over Felicity's body, the frantic clenching of her slick passage around him, Oliver knew far better than his wife where she hovered, how close she was to the raging vortex they sought. He moved up higher, intentionally angling his body to stroke her, inside and out, on his next downward thrust. Watching her fevered expression, he drove forward, relentlessly opening her, stretching her, caressing his full length against her most sensitive, throbbing core.

The world came apart.

Felicity screamed, unraveling in a series of pulsing spasms that wrenched at her, tossing her into euphoric sensations too acute to withstand … and gripping Oliver with fingers of fire too lethal to endure.

Withdrawal was unthinkable.

With a feral roar, Oliver erupted, plunging deep, his seed exploding from his body into hers in an endless torrent. Crushing Felicity into him, he surrendered totally, meeting each of her contractions with a scalding burst of fire, pouring his very soul into the mouth of her womb.

Then all was still, their harsh breathing the only audible sound in the room.

Oliver recovered first.

„Damn it," he breathed, stunned by his unprecedented total lack of control. With what little strength he had left, he raised his head. „Snow flame … are you all right?"

Her eyes closed, Felicity smiled. „You tell me. Am I?"

Contentment, as unique as his passion, washed over Oliver in great, wondrous waves, and he rolled over on the cushions, taking Felicity with him. „No," he murmured, cradling her in his arms, „you're not all right. You're magnificent."

„I return the compliment." She nuzzled his throat. „Just as I suspected … heaven."

Tenderness spawned guilt. „I intended to leave you before ..."

„I didn't intend to let you," she interrupted, smiling against his damp skin. „It was too beautiful to experience alone. I wanted you with me."

„I've never lost control like that," he murmured, more to himself than to her. „Hell, I couldn't have left you if there had been a gun to my head."

„You can lose control with me, Oliver," she whispered. „I know it's a risk you've never taken. But with me, there's no risk at all. I'll never hurt you."

Oliver didn't answer. The tensing of his muscles was Felicity's only indication that he'd heard her.

„We should get some sleep," he said at last. „Tomorrow we'll go to Merlyn Manor and collect your things."

A tremor of fear shot through her. _„__We?"_

„We."

„But Father ..."

„I'll deal with your father." He reached over, seizing his coat and draping its woolen warmth around them. „But I won't leave you here as ready prey for his venom. At least at Merlyn Manor, I'll be beside you, should he attack. And trust me, Felicity," Oliver's mouth thinned into a grim line, „the marquis won't overstep his bounds with me."

„He's terrified of you."

„He should be. I own him."

Felicity blinked. „What does that mean?"

„It means that his outstanding notes far exceed his wealth. It means that every asset he owns actually belong to the holder of those notes, which, as luck would have it, happens to be me." Oliver's smile didn't reach his eyes. „It means that I'm the spider and he is the fly."

„Of course." Felicity nodded, realization illuminating her face. „That would explain everything: Father's monetary worries, his rigidity with the staff, and his utter dread and hatred of you. Do you plan to ruin him?" She sounded more curious than concerned.

„Would you care?"

„That depends on how you do it. And why."

„Witnessing his mistreatment of you today … that in itself would have been reason enough."

That look of wonder returned to Felicity's eyes. „I never imagined I could feel so safe, or that anyone would care enough about me to ensure that I was."

Oliver tangled his hands in her hair, brushing her lips tenderly with his. „As I said, Snow flame, no one will ever hurt you again." He looked away, his laugh self-deprecating. „That's a ludicrous statement, coming from me, isn't it? Considering I myself just hurt you not ten minutes past."

„No, you didn't. You evoked sensations within me too glorious to describe. If a split second of pain was the prelude to that splendor, it was a small price to pay."

The tenderness reappeared on Oliver's face. „Next time, I'll prolong your pleasure, make it better for you. I promise."

„It couldn't be any better." She wrapped her arms about his neck. „But, speaking of promises, I distinctly recall your vows to teach me how to please you. Also something about making love to me until neither of us could breathe." Her smile was radiant. „Well, so far as I can see, we're both still breathing, are we not?"

With a half laugh, half groan, Oliver pulled her over him, covering her teasing mouth with his. „Not for long, Snow flame. Not for long."


	15. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14**

Felicity slept like a contented child, curled trustingly in her husband's arms.

Oliver sifted his fingers through her hair, staring at the ceiling, lost in thought.

Today had been a monumental day, a series of events exploding one after the other, leaving no time for assessment.

He'd begun the day determined to make Felicity his betrothed. Instead, he'd made her his wife.

Overall, the outcome was a vast relief. He'd removed her from Merlyn's poisonous hands, legally taken responsibility over her for protection and safety, and ensured that she was his, in body and fact, for the rest of their lives.

The problem was that, in effecting the unplanned immediacy of their wedding, he'd allowed himself no time for preparation in certain critical areas. For example, how was he going to deal with Felicity's questions about his plans for her father? How much was he going to relate to the part Merlyn had played in his past?

And last, but most importantly, was the delicate matter of his other life. How was he going to incorporate the nocturnal activities of the Green Arrow Bandit with marriage to a very bright, very curious young woman?

Pondering Felicity's heroic view of the bandit, Oliver had to grin. Doubtless, she'd be thrilled to learn she was wed to the masked marauder of the rich, that the two men she was drawn to were, in fact, one and the same. No, Oliver was quite certain he did not need to fear his wife's condemnation, should she discover the truth. Nor had he any reservations as to her loyalty. She would keep his secret unconditionally and proudly, applauding him each time the bandit embarked on a nightly excursion.

Nevertheless, he couldn't … wouldn't … tell her. The danger was too great. He, better than anyone, recognized the risk he took each time he invaded a nobleman's home. But, for him, it was a risk well worth taking, assumed with the absolute fearlessness spawned by having lived in hell and survived. Now he was coldly unthreatened by anything life might dole out.

No, it was one thing for him to defy the law, challenge the odds, and, someday inevitably lose. But not Felicity. Never Felicity.

Despite the fact that his innocent wife had demonstrated herself to be quite resourceful for an amateur, Oliver reflected. He stifled a chuckle as he relived the scene in Thompson's store. Felicity had managed to locate just the right man: a somewhat shady though reputedly high-paying jeweler. Then, she'd determinedly held out for the best price she could get for her brooch. And all so the parish children could eat.

Oliver's smile vanished, a tidal wave of emotion engulfing his heart. Until Felicity, he'd never witnessed such selflessness, never even believed it existed. But exist it did. He was holding the proof of it in his arms.

Christ, these feelings were more than he'd anticipated, Oliver admitted to himself, gazing down at his sleeping wife. He'd perceived the wealth of spirit and passion burning within her from the moment they'd met, but he hadn't perceived how profoundly their emergence would affect him, especially in bed.

Bed? They'd never even made it past the sitting room.

From dusk till dawn he'd made love to her, drowning in the relentless passion that welled up between them when they touched, devouring her, again and again, until exhaustion compelled them to sleep. Even then, he'd drifted off for but an hour, awakening to the scent and feel of her, his body achingly aroused before he'd even opened his eyes.

It was damned disconcerting.

Never in his wildest dreams had Oliver imagined either the staggering intensity of their lovemaking or his own decimated self-control. A control, he reminded himself grimly, that he'd never regained throughout their long, torrid hours together. In truth, he'd abandoned all thought of withdrawal. Pouring himself into Felicity was both a celebration and a compulsion, as natural and necessary to him as breathing.

He buried his lips in her hair, watching narrow slices of dawn peak through the drapes. In a short while he'd have to awaken her to talk. They had much to accomplish today: moving Felicity to Starling, providing safe living arrangements for her mother, facing Merlyn, and establishing ground rules the bastard wouldn't violate.

Devising those rules and resolving how much of the past to tell Felicity were Oliver's current dilemmas.

Dilemmas he needed to resolve posthaste.

Felicity stirred, frowning at the abrasiveness of her bed covers. She shifted, seeking a softer spot, and was startled into wakefulness by the fervent protest of her aching muscles.

Memory exploded like fireworks.

Pushing herself up on one elbow, Felicity tossed her hair back and surveyed the room with sleepy disorientation, searching for Oliver.

She spotted him not ten feet away, clad only in his trousers, staring intently out the window.

„Oliver?"

He turned, a tender look in his eyes. „Good morning, Snow flame. I was just about to awaken you."

„How long have you been up?" Felicity asked, attempting to wrap his coat about her.

„A while." Oliver stooped to retrieve his shirt. „I believe you'll find this more comfortable."

„Thank you." Oliver shrugged into it and rose, buttoning the shirt as she came to stand beside her husband. „Are you all right?"

A corner of Oliver's mouth lifted, and he feathered his fingers through her disheveled mane. „I believe that question belongs to me."

Felicity blushed. „I'm fine. A bit tender, but fine." Her smile was shy. „More than that, actually."

„I'm glad." He cupped her face, brushed his mouth gently across hers. „Although I fear our wedding night was as unconventional as our wedding. I apologize. The least I could have done was carried you to my bed."

„I rather liked our makeshift bed … and the urgency that precluded us from leaving it," Felicity confessed.

Oliver's eyes darkened. „I wanted you again. The moment I awoke, in fact."

„Then why didn't you ...?"

„You needed your rest. As it is, I overtaxed your poor body beyond its endurance."

„I have no complaints. Neither does my body."

Oliver chuckled, stroking her cheek bones. „There will be other nights, Snow flame. Countless ones. I promise."

„But for today there is reality," Felicity concluded, sobering as she interpreted his unspoken words.

„Yes," he agreed solemnly. „For today there is reality."

„Oliver," Felicity took a deep breath, plunging right in, „we have much to discuss. To begin with, I'm concerned about going to Merlyn Manor. Father is brutally angry. I'm afraid of what he might do."

„I swore to you he'll never hurt you again."

„I wasn't referring to myself. I'm not the only one Father has hurt."

„I'll ensure your mother's safety as well."

„I wasn't referring to Mama either. I was referring to you." She saw her husband go rigid, but pressed on nonetheless. „What did he do to you, Oliver? Why do you hate him so?"

„This is a complicated issue, Felicity, one I've never discussed. To be frank, I'm not sure I'm able to."

„You must." Felicity laid a tentative hand on his chest. „Again and again, you've spoken of the undeniable wonder that draws us together. You've asked for my trust and I've gladly offered it. You asked for my hand in marriage, and, although I hadn't a chance to properly accept your proposal, I intended to, joyfully. I've just become your wife … in every way … and the physical joining we shared was more beautiful than I ever imagined, much less believed, possible. Is all that not powerful enough for you to offer me even a shred of trust in return? Oliver," she caressed his jaw, urging it down so their gazes locked, „I know the coldness that lines my father's heart. Please tell me. What has he done to you?"

„Nearly killed me," Oliver bit out. „Me and hundreds of other pathetic children who had no manner of protection and nowhere to turn."

„How?"

Some unknown emotion compelled him to continue. „I told you I grew up in a workhouse. The headmaster was a contemptible, greedy son of a bitch who got his position by knowing certain influential people, one nobleman in particular. The arrangement was simple. Blood retained his job in exchange for providing the man who ensured it with a healthy portion of the workhouse donations. The rich prospered, the headmaster prevailed, and the children starved, and were beaten mercilessly by men who felt gutter rats were better off dead."

Felicity paled, but she didn't flinch or look away. „Your story doesn't surprise me. The vicar has warned me such arrangements exist."

„Has he? Has he told you what it's like to be whipped until you bleed? Starved until you faint? Tormented until you're numb? Has he told you what's it like to see your mother die before your eyes, then have her denied a proper burial? And all because of the sick whims of a certain nobleman? The same nobleman who stole your money and ensured your suffering by keeping Blood at the helm?"

Sick at heart, Felicity murmured, „You're telling me that man was my father."

„Yes. That's what I'm telling you."

„How often did he whip you?"

„Whenever I or any of the children had the misfortune to stumble into his path. In between visits, he left strict orders for Blood to thrash us daily, if he wanted to remain the headmaster."

„Then Father _does_ know the connection, the reason for your hatred."

„No."

„No? But certainly he recalls what he did to you when you were a child?"

„He never even knew my name. Oh, he knows Oliver Dearden grew up in a workhouse. He uncovered that fact when he investigated my background. But he never once associated his lowlife business associate with one of the scrawny bastards he beat senseless. Quite simply, he never knew one workhouse child from another. In his eyes, we were all the same, nameless and unnecessary."

„I understand."

„Do you?" Oliver searched her face, his eyes hard with bitterness.

Slowly, resignedly, Felicity turned around, dropping Oliver's shirt from her shoulders and stepping into the path of the morning sunlight as it peeped through the open drapes. Then she swept up her tousled hair, twisting it into a knot atop her head. „Yes, Oliver, I understand," she repeated simply.

Hatred rose in Oliver's throat as he stared at Felicity's bare back, confronting the heinous evidence of Merlyn's brutality … evidence the darkness and his own urgency had eclipsed from view.

Dozens of scars, some faded, some fresh, covered her naked flesh, obscene marks on the delicate satin of her skin.

Never had Oliver felt more capable of murder than at that moment.

„That filthy scum." Beyond fury, he acted on instinct, wrapping his arms around Felicity and enfolding her against him as if to ward off the pain she'd already endured.

„That vile, despicable son of a bitch." With infinite gentleness, he brushed his lips across her nape. „In my gut I knew something like this was happening. An animal like that could never leave such flawless beauty unscathed. I just couldn't allow myself to contemplate that he might … Christ, I'm sorry. I'm so bloody sorry, Snow flame."

„Don't be." She turned in his arms, pressed her fingers to his lips. „You rescued me, and I'll never have to bear his beatings again. I just wanted you to know that I do understand some of what you went through."

„He hurt you, and for that I want to kill him. But Felicity, he could never truly touch your beauty. It's submerged deep inside you, in a place your father could never reach, much less fathom." He kissed her fingertips. „Don't ever forget that."

Tears filled Felicity's eyes. „You're such a wonderful man," she whispered. „And you've endured so much. Watching your mother die … starving in the streets." Felicity bowed her head, two tears trickling down her cheeks. „I hate him, too, Oliver."

Abruptly, her pain was Oliver's.

„Don't." He gathered her against him. „Please sweetheart, don't cry for me."

„I'm not crying for you," she managed, her voice muffled against his chest. „I'm crying for the little boy you were when my father tortured you."

Oliver closed his eyes, buried his face in the fragrant cloud of her hair. „That boy is gone now."

She leaned back. „Is he? I don't think so. I think he's very much here and very much responsible for the man you've become and for his actions. No wonder you do what you do. And that you don't believe in prayers."

Prayers.

Fleetingly, Oliver smiled, remembering the occasions on which they'd discussed his lack of faith in prayers: the evening they'd waltzed in Steelmoore's garden, and in the privacy of her bed chamber, when the Green Arrow Bandit had robbed her house.

„I've endured nothing in comparison to you." Oblivious to her husband's tender recollections, Felicity re-buttoned her borrowed shirt. „But I have known the pain of my father's beatings since I was small. Moreover, I had to endure the even more unbearable agony of hearing my mother's sobs when he would beat her. Lord, how many nights I covered my ears to drown out the sound of her anguished weeping."

„All that's over now."

This time it was Felicity the one that shook her head sadly. „You, better than anyone, know that certain things can never be over. They're imprinted in your memory forever, hopefully haunting you less and less as the years go by." She averted her gaze, her eyes veiled. „From the day I was born, my father decided I was far too much like my mother, too good-hearted, too compassionate. By the time I turned eight, he ruled that beatings alone were no longer sufficient; first hand experience was necessary. With that in mind, he dragged me to a workhouse and forced me inside. God, how I fought him. I knew once I entered those walls, my life would never be the same. And not because I'd experience the revulsion Father anticipated. Quite the contrary. I knew I'd never be able to forget the faces, the hopeless futility of those who truly do without. And I was right. Father thrust me in and I've never been the same. Neither will I ever forget."

„You're astounding," Oliver replied, his voice unsteady. „You've never lived there, and yet, you have."

„I remember it all. The women scrubbing on their knees, coughing until their frail bodies were racked with it; the smells of disease; the children pumping water, especially that one little girl with the hollow eyes and the tattered doll in her arms … everything." Felicity's lips trembled. „And that taunting sign hanging over the building, its name the antithesis of all I'd witnessed. Eternal hope? More like eternal hopelessness."

Oliver's head snapped around. „Eternal hope?"

She nodded. „Yes. That was the name of the workhouse. Starlings Workhouse of Eternal Hope."

„Damn." A muscle worked in Oliver's jaw.

„You've seen it?"

„I grew up in it."

„You grew up ..." Felicity's fingers flew to her mouth, all the color draining from her face. „That's the workhouse you lived in?" she whispered. „That deplorable place in Leicester I just described?"

„And what you described was hardly the worst of it," Oliver confirmed, a tortured look in his eyes. „There was the dead room, where I was frequently punished by being locked amid decaying dead bodies and darkness … longer each time I disobeyed the headmaster's inhuman demands. Alongside the dead room was the foul ward, where women tortured by syphilis screamed in agony on the beds and floors, together with those women distorted by unnameable skin diseases caused by living in filth. There was no ventilation, the smell was everywhere ..." Oliver broke off, his breathing harsh.

Wordlessly, Felicity went to him, fighting back tears of revulsion and pain. Oliver needed her now … needed her strength, not her pity. She wrapped her arms securely about his waist, lay her head on his chest. „There is a purpose to everything, even if we ourselves cannot discern it. You were subjected to such a life for a reason, perhaps the same reason you survived it. My God, you're strong." Felicity turned her face, brushing her lips against his skin.

Slowly, Oliver averted his head, staring down at her as she shared his remembered pain. „I'm sorry, Snow flame," he said gruffly, his arms closing around her. „I never should have exposed you to such horrors."

„I'm proud you trusted me enough to confide in me," Felicity demurred. She leaned back to meet his gaze. „Tell me about your mother."

„My mother." A resigned sadness settled over Oliver. „She was beautiful … or perhaps she only seemed so to me." He shrugged. „It doesn't matter. After long years of workhouse life her beauty faded, her health deteriorated, and I lost her."

„She gave birth to you in the workhouse?"

„Yes. She had been a tavern maid at a London pub. That's where she met Starling. Evidently, their affair was torrid, but, at least from his perspective, temporary. You see, the duke had a very proper, very legal duchess at home. Ironic how he conveniently dismissed that reality when he bedded my mother, just as he unfeelingly dismissed my mother when she went to him with the knowledge that she carried his child."

„He offered her nothing?"

„Initially, no. According to the letter he left with his solicitor, he had a change of heart some months later and went back to the tavern to see for himself that my mother was well. By that time it was too late. Mother was long gone, dismissed the instant the tavern keeper discovered she was with child."

„Did your father abandoned his search at that point?" Felicity asked softly.

„Seemingly not. I've been told he hired investigators who traced my mother and me to the workhouse in Leicester, and that he intended to forsake his glittering life and claim us." Oliver gave a harsh laugh. "That never came to pass. The duke's wife chose that moment to do what she'd been unable to for years. She conceived his child. Needless to say, a legitimate heir has priority over a bastard. So the duke remained at Starling, and we remained in hell. Mother held on as long as she could. But she was never very strong. She died when I was seven."

„You were so young. How devastated you must have been."

„She was the only stability in my life. I never knew my father, and I hated him for what he'd done. When my mother died, it was the first time I felt truly abandoned."

Instinctively, Felicity ran caressing fingers along Oliver's spine. „Your father paid dearly for his selfishness." Her eyes misted with emotion. „He never had the joy of knowing you."

„Clearly, he considered that no great loss."

„You can't be certain of that," she protested.

„Can't I? If he were so distressed, why didn't he damn protocol and claim me? No, Felicity. I don't think Starling agonized over my absence from his life."

„Then the misfortune was his. Moreover, from what I've heard, you weren't his only loss. His other son was killed in a riding accident, which drove the duke into seclusion."

„I presume Merlyn told you that."

„He did, yes." Felicity nodded. „I believe he was fairly well acquainted with the late duke."

Another harsh laugh. „Very well acquainted." Oliver's hands clenched in Felicity's hair as he answered her questioning look. „In order to collect the funds Blood owed him, Merlyn visited the headmaster frequently. I eavesdropped on every one of their meetings."

„I see." Felicity blinked at the rapid change of subject. „I assume my father never discovered your presence?"

„Never." Oliver shook his head. „To this day he has no idea I witnessed his illegal dealings, nor that I observed him and his companion each time they arrived."

„His companion?"

„Merlyn didn't visit Blood alone. He was accompanied by none other than the Duke of Starling."

Felicity inhaled sharply as Oliver's point struck home. „The duke was involved with Father's scheme?"

„Yes and no."

„What does that mean? Did he accept money from Blood or didn't he?"

„None that I witnessed. Whether or not he took his share when he and Merlyn were alone, I don't know. In truth, he was removed and disinterested during the actual meetings, more restless than avid. Actually, his entire presence at the workhouse always struck me as rather odd. The moment the meetings ended, he would wander about, saying nothing, doing nothing, merely looking. It's only now that I understand what his purpose was."

Realization dawned in Felicity's eyes. „To see you."

„Evidently. It was his pathetic way of keeping an eye on his bastard son. He'd received word of my mother's death and was, supposedly, distraught. Not distraught enough to compromise his legitimate heir by acknowledging me; just enough to pay an occasional visit to the workhouse to verify that I lived."

„He was weak, Oliver. But it's obvious that, in his own way, he cared."

„Cared?" Oliver's expression was incredulous. „If he cared he wouldn't have cast my mother out when she told him she was carrying his child. Nor would he have relegated us to the atrocity of a workhouse existence. No, Felicity, he didn't care."

Felicity considered arguing the point, then thought better of it.

Later, when her husband was ready, she would confront the pain of his abandonment and, hopefully, help him find peace of mind. But instinct cautioned her that now was not the time. „You said my father didn't know you by name," she clarified instead. „Then that means he never made the connection between you and the duke's workhouse visits."

„Not then. By now I'm sure he's figured it out. Between his investigation of my background and his realization that Starling sired me, I'm certain he's put it all together."

„I wonder what excuse the duke gave Father for accompanying him to his meetings with Blood."

„I assume Starling must have, at the very least, feigned interest in receiving financial compensation. Money is the only incentive your father understands."

„I'm so sorry." Felicity's voice broke as she pressed her forehead to Oliver's chest. „I know I'm not responsible for my father's actions, but that doesn't prevent me from wishing I could undo them. Because of him you endured hell."

„And I intend to see him there in my stead."

Felicity raised her chin, tears glistening on her lashes. „Will you tell me what you have planned?" she asked softly, uncertain if Oliver would comply. „Why have you accepted a title you despise and how will it help bring my father down?"

„Very well." Determined to offer his wife as vast a measure of honesty as possible, Oliver squelched his qualms that she wouldn't … couldn't … condone tactics spawned solely by hate. „I accepted the title because it offers me two things I lacked as a commoner: great wealth and great power. And you're right. For myself, I give a damn for neither. But it's not myself I'm considering." Earnestly, he gripped her shoulders. „Felicity, each week of my two years as the Duke of Starling I receive an allowance of ten thousand pounds. If I fulfill Starling's two stipulations, I will leave as a free man, with access to an estate worth over twenty million pounds. Do you have any idea what that money could buy?"

She studied him, comprehension dawning. „Yes, I do. You want to help the workhouses, don't you?"

He nodded. „I'm far from a poor man. But the sum of my own funds is but a fraction of Starling's fortune. I could do so much. Not just token donations, but rampant reformation … providing more sanitary conditions, higher quality food, less crowded space. The possibilities are endless. Plus, I'd have influence with the magistrates, the kind of influence only wealth and a title can provide."

„And my father? Where does he factor into all this?"

Oliver drew a deep breath. „As I told you, I own each and every one of your father's outstanding notes. He lives in perpetual fear of when I'll choose to call them in. His sole comfort has been that, unless I went ahead and scandalized him with enforced bankruptcy, my nonexistent social status precluded me from penetrating his coveted social circles and slandering his name. Now even that peace of mind is gone. Overnight I became a nobleman, respected by all the ton. Why, I can stroll into White's, attend grand country house parties … the options are limitless. I'll be a constant, taunting thorn in Merlyn's side. I doubt he'll ever sleep again." Jaw clenched, Oliver steeled himself for Felicity's response.

It was anything but the one he'd expected.

With uncanny insight rather than shock, Felicity replied, „I know the kind of man you are, Oliver, despite the depth of your hatred. You don't plan to call in those notes at all. You don't want to bankrupt Father, any more than you want his money."

„You're right. I don't. But not because I'm such a fine man. Because I want to see Merlyn squirm, to render him as helpless as all the people he's victimized over the years."

„Yes. But now complete that line of reasoning. You want to render him helpless, not merely to gloat, but so he can never again brutalize anyone as he did you, me, and Mama."

Silently, Oliver ingested his wife's words. Then he nodded. „I can't dispute your point. Nevertheless, Merlyn will never know that holding those notes is the only victory I seek. So far as he's concerned, I could call them in at any time. He's vulnerable and he's terrified, and I glory in both. So don't paint me a hero, Felicity. Given that blackmail is the only weapon capable of striking down a black-hearted bastard like your father, I use it without guilt or regret."

„I agree."

Oliver started. „You agree?"

„Absolutely. Father must be stopped. And threatening his wealth and social position is the only way to do it." Felicity punctuated her declaration with an emphatic nod. „Now, tell me how I can help. What do you intend to accomplish today when we go to Merlyn and in what ways can I assist you?"

A mixture of pride and relief swept over Oliver's face, and he shook his head in wondrous disbelief. „What an extraordinary combination of contradictions you are, Snow flame. So delicate, so strong."

„Spirit and fire, I believe you said. Rife with untapped passion and exceptional instincts."

He chuckled. „So I did." Tenderly, he framed her face between his palms. „Let's get dressed. During our carriage ride, I'll explain my plan. Then we can put your exceptional instincts to work."

Felicity's smile was both jubilant and mischievous. „Wonderful! And, upon our return, may we do the same for my untapped passion?"

Stepping away, Oliver executed a formal bow, bringing Felicity's fingers to his lips. „My pleasure, Your Grace."

She brought her hand around to caress his jaw. „No, Your Grace. The pleasure will belong to us both."

It wasn't until after Felicity had walked off to gather her discarded gown that two staggering realizations struck Oliver.

He had just unflinchingly acted the part of a duke and he had actually taken the first tentative steps toward trust. Perhaps prayers could, after all, be answered.


	16. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15**

Felicity climbed down from the carriage and paused, scanning the woods surrounding her father's estate.

„Oliver, when we've finished with Father…" She hesitated, uncertain whether Oliver would honor or laugh at her request.

„We'll inspect the woods before heading to Starling," Oliver finished for her, his lips curving with tenderness rather than amusement. „I'm sure we can convince your friend … what was his name, Flash? … to join us. Starling has three times the acreage of Merlyn estate, resulting in thrice as many cozy foxholes in which to build one's home."

„Thank you." Felicity's smile was radiant, reminding Oliver yet again how seldom his wife had been indulged, how little it took to bring her joy.

He intended to drown her in it.

„Are you sure you want to do this?" he asked quietly. „It isn't necessary. You can go right upstairs and pack your things, leaving your father to me."

„I'm sure." Felicity gathered up her skirts. „Consider it another victory for my newly freed spirit." So saying, she marched up to the front door and knocked.

„I'm here to collect my things. But first, the duke, and I, would like to see my father."

„Your f-father?" A fine sheen of perspiration broke out on his forehead. „He's … That is, I ..."

„Well, well, well." Merlyn stalked into the hallway, the dark circles under his eyes the only overt sign he'd lost sleep over yesterday's events. „If it isn't my wayward daughter and her hastily acquired husband."

„We want to speak with you, Merlyn," Oliver commanded. „Alone. Now."

„By all means." Hatred glittered in the marquis's eyes. „Come into my study." He dismissed the agitated butler with a wave of his hand, then turned on his heel and strode down the hall. „You know the way."

Cupping Felicity's elbow, Oliver guided her to Merlyn's study, closing the door behind them.

„Your gown looks rather the worse for wear, daughter." Merlyn's disdainful gaze swept Felicity head to toe. „Ah, I forgot your husband's abominable crude upbringing. Did he demand his marital rights posthaste, tossing up your skirts in the carriage?"

Oliver acted before Felicity's gasp had died on her lips. He stepped in front of his wife, clearly stating his intention to shield her from her father's abuse. „Let me begin with rule number one, Merlyn. You will address my wife with all the respect due to a duchess. If you raise your voice to her or insult her in any way, I'll finish the thrashing I began yesterday. And, if you so much as raise a hand to strike her, I'll kill you where you stand. Is that clear?"

Merlyn's eyes narrowed. „You contemptible gutter rat. My assets weren't enough, Starling's title wasn't enough. You didn't rest until you'd seduced my daughter into joining your sick cat-and-mouse game."

„Oliver didn't seduce me, Father." Shoulders back, Felicity walked out from behind her husband, coming to stand beside him. „He asked me to marry him while you were in London. I accepted. I consider myself a very lucky woman. Oliver gave me the strength to escape your brutality while I still held a small measure of self-respect."

„Are you aware that your esteemed husband is blackmailing me?"

„I am." Felicity smiled proudly. „And I commend his efforts. In fact, I've offered to help him in any way I can. So far as I'm concerned, you deserve to suffer poverty and public ridicule. For what you did to me and to Mama, I hope Oliver calls in each and every one of your notes."

The marquis's shock at Felicity's brazenness was instantly eclipsed by the implication of her final words. „Your mother? Is she involved, too? Damn you to hell, Dearden, have you stashed my wife at Starling?"

„Why?" Oliver's brows rose in sardonic amusement. „Have you misplaced her?"

„You son of a ..."

„Careful, Merlyn. That sounds suspiciously like an insult."

Merlyn clenched his fists, which were white and trembling with rage. „So that's why my messenger was turned away from Starling last night. I thought it stemmed from your spiteful determination to keep me from my daughter. In reality, it sprang from something far more sinister. You've not only abducted Felicity, you've seized Donna as well."

„Felicity is my wife."

„Donna is mine."

„Is she, Father?" Felicity asked. „Then why don't you treat her as such, with some care and respect? Instead, she is nothing but your prey, the object of your violence. It is no wonder she's so desperate to escape you." A flash of anger ignited Felicity's eyes. „Oliver didn't abduct Mama. She chose to go."

„Chose?" Merlyn roared. „She has no right to choose. She relinquished that right and all her others the day she married me." He shoved past Oliver. „I'll drag her out of there myself."

„No, you won't." Oliver clamped a hand on Merlyn's forearm, stoping his departure.

The marquis made several ineffective attempts to free himself. „Your threats mean nothing, Dearden. Not this time. This time the law is on my side. If you block my entry to Starling, I'll contact my solicitor and ..."

„I repeat, no you won't. Because if you do, I'll call in your notes so fast, your head will spin."

„You'll do that anyway."

„Perhaps not."

Merlyn ceased his struggles. Slowly, he turned his head, his eyes narrowed on Oliver's face. „What does that mean?"

„It means I have a proposition for you."

„I'm listening."

„I thought you might." Oliver released his grip, thrusting Merlyn away like a hideous insect. „I'm willing to have Diggle draw up a paper, which we both will sign, attesting to the fact that I won't call in a single one of your notes."

„And in return?"

„In return, the agreement will contain a condition clause."

„Which is?"

„That you make no attempt to see, speak with, or in any other way contact Felicity or the marchioness."

„What?"

„You heard me."

„For how long?"

„As long as the ladies wish it."

„Deard … Starling," the marquis amended, obviously striving with great difficulty to temper his fury, „I'm willing to compromise. But you're not being reasonable. Felicity is one issue, Donna quite another. I'll agree to relinquish Felicity to you. Whether or not I approve, the two of you are wed. But Donna … For heaven's sake, Starling, surely you see the ramifications of what you're demanding."

„Frankly, no."

„No?" Merlyn wiped his brow. „How would you suggest I explain my wife's disappearance to the world?"

„The world? Ah, you mean the _ton_."

„Well, of course I mean the _ton_. Whom else would I mean?"

„If that's your only concern, the problem is easily resolved," Felicity intervened, unable to bear another moment of her father's unfeeling tirade. „Tell the ton Mama is staying with me, helping me to oversee a staff, to adjust to my new role as a duchess, to adapt to married life in general. That should stifle the gossips."

Merlyn hesitated.

„The final decision, of course, is yours." Oliver shrugged, turning to his wife. „Do you need help collecting your things?"

„No. I'll be just a few moments." Taking Oliver's cue, Felicity eased open the door.

„Good. By that time, your father will have made a decision. At which point I'll know what to advise Diggle … whether he'll be drawing up an agreement or arranging for a bankruptcy notice to be placed in the London Gazette."

„You vile ..."

Felicity closed the door behind her, cutting off her father's expletive. Oliver could more than handle things from here. Now, all she needed was to collect her few treasured possessions, locate Flash, and leave Merlyn Manor forever.

She hastened up the stairs and to her bed chamber, leaning back against the closed door and taking deep, calming breaths. Looking down at her hands, she was stunned to see they were shaking. Evidently, the confrontation with her father had affected her more profoundly than she'd realized.

Soberly, Felicity forced herself to look about her bed chamber, to remind herself that she was leaving her sadness and fear behind, that the foundation for her dread was no more. It was over at last, and the only thing that remained was to gather her things and bid her past good bye.

Crossing over to the dressing table, Felicity scooped up her brush and comb, suddenly struck by how very little else she truly cared to take. Her clothing consisted of but a few modest day and evening gowns, her personal items only an ongoing needlepoint that made her sleepless nights easier to bear and a few favorite books.

And her two prized possessions.

Having packed all she intended to, Felicity hastened to the bed, sliding her hand beneath the mattress to retrieve her scrapbook: a collection of articles describing the thefts of the Green Arrow Bandit. With a fond smile, she slipped the scrapbook into one of her bags, then turned to her nightstand and her final remaining treasure.

Isobel.

Felicity's gaze softened as she picked up the elegant doll who, so far as she was concerned, was as beautiful as she'd been a dozen Christmases before, when her mother had flourished her before Felicity's enchanted eyes. It mattered not that her dress was worn in spots, nor that her golden hair had lost some of its luster. She was Isobel, the precious doll who had absorbed Felicity's childhood tears, listened patiently to her loneliness and fear, and offered her the constancy and comfort denied to her by fate.

For the umpteenth time, an image of the little girl at the workhouse flashed before Felicity's eyes, evoking the same aching sadness as always. Unexpectedly, the blanket of hopelessness that customarily followed in its wake never occurred. Instead came a startling and miraculous realization, one that spawned the wonders of faith and hope, rather than futility and despair.

She was no longer her father's daughter, but Oliver's wife.

Exhilaration surged through Felicity's blood as she envisioned all she could finally do, how many people she could aid. Why, with Oliver's influence and their mutual resolve, the possibilities were limitless.

Infused with newly born hope, Felicity tucked Isobel beside the scrapbook and took up her bags, casting a final look about the bed chamber. Devoid of her personal touches, it looked coldly austere, like the manor's other rooms and like the man who owned them. The similarity wasn't surprising. Neither her father or his manor had a soul.

Without a backward glance, Felicity abandoned her childhood.

„Diggle will notify us when the agreement is ready to be signed," she heard Oliver saying as she descended the stairs.

Her husband glanced up and saw her, instantly making his way to her side, relieving her of her luggage with a smoothly possessive motion that told the world and the marquis that she was his.

„That concludes our business, Merlyn." Oliver guided Felicity to the entrance way. „I expect we won't be seeing you anytime soon, except in Diggle's office." He tossed Merlyn a mocking grin. „And, of course, at the procession of Christmas house parties next month."

Felicity was still glowing with newfound optimism when, after a thirty-minute cajoling session in the woods, their carriage sprinted off toward Starling.

„Your fox is exhausting, Snow flame," Oliver muttered, settling himself across from his wife. „I thought he'd never agree to abandon his den."

„He is a bit stubborn," Felicity agreed, stroking Flash's fur with a reassuring hand. „Not to mention skeptical. But surely you can relate to those qualities."

„Am I being compared to a fox?"

„In some ways, yes. You're both fiercely independent and loyal." She smiled, reveling in the unfamiliar sense of well-being. „I'm a lucky woman."

A corner of Oliver's mouth lifted. „I won't argue, since I applaud your conclusion."

The carriage turned onto the main road, and Felicity glanced back at the rapidly receding mansion. „From what I overheard, I presume Father agreed with your condition that he sever ties with Mama."

Oliver's amusement vanished. „Did you doubt it? After all, I offered him the finest of incentives, the use of his blood money without my noose around his neck."

Felicity nodded. „I know. No, I assumed he'd prefer financial security even to castigating his wayward wife." She paused, lowering her gaze. „I spent my entire life in that house and I felt nothing upon leaving it, Oliver, not even a pang."

„Does that surprise you?"

„No. Neither does it matter. Once we managed to retrieve Flash, the last of my bonds with Merlyn was severed. I don't intend to return."

At the sound of his name, Flash raised his head from Felicity's lap, his sharp eyes darting about the carriage. Evidently content with what he saw, he wrapped his tail around him, curled closer in the folds of his mistress's gown, and went to sleep.

„Your fox cub appears to be taking his transition rather well," Oliver observed dryly. „Granted, he was leery at first, but he certainly seems at peace now."

„He's accustomed to upheaval. He was abandoned young … at birth I fear … and had to make his own way."

„He and I have a great deal in common."

A sad smile touched Felicity's lips. „So you do. Well, like you, Flash is a survivor. He'll resettle himself in no time, so long as I'm nearby."

„A great deal in common," Oliver repeated huskily, reaching across to take Felicity's hand in his.

Their gazes locked, their fingers touched, and Felicity's heart skipped a beat at the unconcealed longing burning in her husband's blue eyes.

„I wonder if I'll always feel this way when you look at me like that," she whispered.

„Like what?" Oliver kissed her fingertips, one by one, his breath a heated caress on her sensitive skin.

„Like you are now. Like you did last night."

„Ah, last night." Oliver eased across to sit beside her, his palms gliding up her arms to her shoulders, tugging her to him. „I can still feel you, taste you, hear your cries of pleasure as you shuddered under me." His fingers slid beneath her hair, stroking her nape as his mouth found hers. „Ah, Felicity, I want to drown in you again."

She gripped his coat, moaning softly as his words brought back all the excitement, the wonder of their wedding night. Her mouth opened to his, welcoming his tongue, melding it with her own. Had Flash not been occupying her lap, she would have flung herself into Oliver's embrace, given herself up to his magic then and there.

Oliver sensed and shared her frustration. „When we arrive at Starling, I'll introduce you to the staff … at least the first wave of them," he murmured against her lips. „Then, I'll arrange for a hot bath to be drawn for you. While you're bathing, I'll be making final provisions for your mother." He circled his lips against hers. „Moreover, I suggest you concentrate on soaking the ache from your muscles. Because Felicity," he nipped lightly, „I fully intend to tax each and every one of those beautiful muscles, plus some new ones that have yet to be exhausted, again tonight." He absorbed her tiny shiver. „Are you amenable to that?"

„Y ...yes. But Oliver?"

"Hmm?"

„I think my muscles will be renewed long before nightfall."

„Prophetic as well as insightful and passionate." Oliver traced her lower lip with his tongue. „Very well, then. Dusk, shall we say?"

„Late afternoon would be better."

This time it was Oliver who shuddered. „Continue baiting me like that and I'll make love to you in the carriage, fox or not."

„That sounds intriguing." Felicity gazed up at him, her cheeks flushed, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

Oliver went rigid, then abruptly checked himself. „No, Mrs. Dearden. When I have you next, it's going to be in a bed. My bed. Where we can enjoy each other with total and utter abandon. With no carriage seats nor sofa cushions to inhibit our movements or our pleasure. All right?"

„All right." Felicity was barely able to speak.

„Good." He glanced impatiently out the carriage window. "I am suddenly very eager to reach Starling."

The bath water did indeed feel wonderful, Felicity thought gratefully, sinking deeper into the tub. She'd insisted on bathing herself, much to the chagrin of her new lady's maid, Lily, whom she'd selected from the abundance of female servants she'd met earlier. Lily was of middle years, kind faced and experienced, having served the late Duchess of Starling for a dozen years.

Starling itself was not nearly so stark and intimidating as Felicity had anticipated. Oh, the manor was enormous, with hundreds of rooms on thousands of acres. But there was a seed of potential floating about, almost as if the estate were sleeping and needed the right touch to awaken it.

Felicity smiled at her fanciful notion. Perhaps it was the hot water making her silly, or perhaps it was the lingering elation over the hope she'd spied in her mother's eyes when Oliver had described his various properties to her, as well as his various contacts, who would ensure her safety day and night. At this moment, Donna was readying herself for her morning trip to Rutland, where Oliver owned a small, picturesque estate of modest acreage and beautiful scenery, an estate Donna was most eager to make her home.

Once again, Oliver had answered a prayer.

„Sleeping, Snow flame?"

Oliver's deep, resonant voice jarred Felicity from her reverie. She started, her eyes flying open to see her husband crouched down beside her, clad only in trousers and an open shirt.

„Oliver. I thought you were gathering men to safeguard your estate in Rutland."

„The arrangements have been completed. The missives are in the process of being delivered. Rutland will be well guarded by the time of your mother's arrival."

„You're wonderful."

He smiled, lowering himself to his knees and rolling up his sleeves. „And you're beautiful." He brushed her damp hair aside to kiss her nape. „Did I awaken you?"

„I wasn't asleep. I was daydreaming."

„About what?" His hands dipped into the water, then glided up and down her bare arms with slow, lazy motions, breaking the surface to caress her shoulders.

„About you," she managed.

„I'm flattered." Submerging again, his fingers found her waist, curved about her tingling skin, stroking up and down, pausing on each upward journey, always stopping just shy of her breasts.

Felicity began to tremble violently, everything inside her going liquid. With each whisper-soft caress, her stomach knotted, her nipples tightened into hard buds of need. „Oliver ..."

He kissed her nape again, shifting a bit to feather teasing kisses down her neck.

„Oliver." His name was a plea. She was going to die from the tension.

He claimed her breasts in one fluid motion, cupping their weight in his palms, lazing his thumbs over her nipples.

A muted whimper escaped Felicity's lips.

„It's late afternoon, my exquisite wife," he murmured. „Are you ready for me?"

Wordlessly, she nodded.

„Are you certain?" His hands left her breasts, drifted over her rib cage and hips, then slipped between her thighs.

She bit her lip to silence the harsh cry threatening to erupt.

„Are you, sweetheart?" He touched her, parting her with his fingers, circling with his thumb. „Are you certain?"

„Yes," she sobbed, nearly unraveling from his first intimate caress. „Oliver!"

He was on his feet, taking her with him, sloshing water everywhere and not giving a damn. Their rooms were adjoining. Oliver carried Felicity through her bed chamber and into his, lowering them both to his bed.

„I'm drenching your sheets." She uttered a token protest, simultaneously tugging at his shirt.

„You are, aren't you?" Live flames blazed in Oliver's eyes. „Let's remedy that." Lowering his head, he began licking droplets from her throat, the hollow between her breasts. „Better?" he breathed raggedly, brushing her hands away to tear off his shirt, fling it to the floor.

„God." Felicity's eyes drifted closed. „Better. And worse."

„Ah. More droplets of water." Oliver's tongue flicked over her nipple once, twice, then, together with his lips, surrounded the velvet peak, drawing it deep into his mouth.

„I'm going to die," she gasped.

„Only of pleasure."

„Oliver."

„I love the sound of my name on your lips." He moved up to kiss her, opening his mouth hungrily over hers. „You taste like scented rain." He lowered his torso over hers, crushing her sensitive breasts beneath the hard wall of his chest. „Christ," he rasped, rubbing his skin against hers. „You feel like heaven."

Helplessly, Felicity arched against him, feeling the hard ridge of his erection pulse against her tender flesh, impeded only by his trousers. „Now, Oliver. Please, now." She tugged at the hindering material.

He rose to his knees, his gaze hot and restless, his face hard with desire, and Felicity caught her breath as she waited for him to shed his clothing and come to her.

In one swift motion, he raised her legs over his shoulders, opening her totally to his possession. Before Felicity could protest, he bent his head, sinking his tongue deep, deep into her moist sweetness.

From somewhere in the distance, Felicity heard her own muffled shriek, and then the world spun away until she knew only Oliver's mouth, Oliver's tongue, and the forbidden ecstasy he was lavishing on her senses. She couldn't bear it, struggling for him to stop at the same time as she begged him to continue. Pinpoints of unendurable need melded into one, spiraling endlessly, converging until they exploded into a shattering starburst of sensation that convulsed throughout her body, leaving her limp and barely conscious.

Vaguely, she heard Oliver make a sound of inarticulate wonder, felt the bed give as he vaulted to his feet, dragged his trousers from his body.

„Felicity." Her name was an endearment, and Felicity's lashes lifted as her husband came down over her. He nudged her legs apart, then paused, whip-taut, in the cradle of her thighs. „I have to have you."

She welcomed him, body and soul, reaching up to caress the taut muscles of his forearms, wrapping her legs around his as she gave him the answer he sought. „You do have me, Oliver. You always will."

With a ragged groan, Oliver thrust into her, one long, inexorable stroke, stretching the tender skin that still reeled from his earlier assault.

Oblivious to the minor twinge of discomfort, Felicity sobbed her pleasure, utterly engulfed in renewed sensation. She arched to meet him, opening herself to take him as totally as her body would allow.

Oliver stiffened as he sensed her body's resistance. „Snow flame." He could barely breathe, much less speak. „Am I hurting you?"

Fiercely, Felicity shook her head, winding her arms and legs about him. „No. Don't stop."

Bracing himself on his forearms, Oliver withdrew slowly, shuddering as he searched his wife's flushed face. „God help me, I don't think I can." Even as he spoke, he was pushing into her again, groaning aloud as her muscles clasped him tightly, lured him deeper into her velvety wetness. „Christ, you strip away all my control." His hips were moving of their own volition, the friction of her tight passage around his rigid shaft more than he could bear. „Felicity, I can't go slowly. I've got to ..."

„Yes," she whispered.

He swore softly, hooking his arms beneath her knees to bring her up harder, open her more fully to the dark craving that clawed at his soul. „If I hurt you ..."

„You won't." She threaded her fingers through the damp hair at his nape, as unafraid as she was certain of Oliver's need and her own. „I love you, Oliver."

The world exploded at her vow.

His restraint splintering into nothingness, Oliver surrendered to the wildness, his urgency beating inside him like a relentless wave pounding on the shore, to be assuaged only when its power was spent. His thrusts became savage, incessant, demanding every ounce of passion Felicity could give.

She gave it all.

With a fervor she never knew she possessed, Felicity met her husband's body thrust for thrust, immersed in his frenzied drive for fulfillment. Drowning in sensation, she dug her nails in his back, whimpering his name with each downward stroke, moaning uninhibited pleas for more that at any other time would make her blush.

„Felicity." Oliver's powerful muscles went rigid, his body drenched in sweat. He threw back his head, the tendons in his neck standing out as his body reached a pinnacle of sensation too sharp to withstand, too miraculous to define. „Take me, Snow flame," he ground out, crushing her loins with his. „Meld your fire with mine."

His words ended in a groan, and he shuddered, once, twice, his hips moving convulsively, his fingers biting into the tender skin of her thighs.

Felicity felt his first burst of wet heat inside her … a sensation so profoundly beautiful, so excruciatingly erotic that it pushed her over the edge. Absorbing the enormity of his climax, she surrendered to her own, dissolving around him in hard, gripping contractions that made him shudder anew, pour into her with a second climax more powerful than the first.

He collapsed on top of her, the intimacy of his weight as wondrous as the passion that preceded it.

Joyously content, Felicity trailed her fingers along the hard, damp planes of Oliver's back, feeling the muscles flex against her fingertips, the tremors of reaction still rippling through him.

„Snow flame," he managed, his lips in her hair. „It's never been ..."

„I know." She brushed her open mouth against his shoulder, repeating the declaration she'd given him at the height of their passion. „I love you, Oliver."

She felt, rather than saw, his reaction; a slight tensing of his body against hers.

„Christ, I need you," he choked out, reluctant and incredulous all at once. „It scares the hell out of me how much."

„I know both those things as well," Felicity acknowledged, rubbing her cheek against his skin. "But Oliver?"

He raised his head, gazed down at her.

„Your fear will subside. My love won't." A shy smile hovered about her lips. „Snow flames bloom forever."


	17. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16**

Oliver leaned against the door frame of the dining room entrance way, smiling tenderly as his beautiful wife, a whirlwind in lilac, dashed about, first to the sideboard to make certain the brandy decanter was full, next to the table to realign the silverware, then on to the draperies to readjust the amount of moonlight infusing the room. Intermittently, she would snatch a tray from a passing servant, chiding him for carrying too heavy a load, and call out to Mrs. Gates that she was working herself and her staff far too hard.

So this was what it meant to have a home.

Overwhelmed by contentment, Oliver reveled in a new sense of belonging, one he'd been denied for thirty years. Now, after only six weeks of marriage to Felicity, he could actually feel the empty spaces of his heart begin to fill, pervaded by the rare, unspoiled wonder that was his wife.

He was one hell of a lucky gambler.

Slowly, he strolled into the room, coming up behind Felicity and, indifferent to their lack of privacy, wrapping his arms about her waist. „Unfurrow that beautiful brow. Everything looks perfect."

Felicity started. „Oliver. I didn't hear you come in."

He kissed her hair. „Obviously not. You were too busy organizing this grand banquet."

She disengaged herself with a murmur of protest. „Don't be irreverent. This is our first official dinner party."

His grin was indulgent. „Sweetheart, it's only the vicar, not a swarm of strangers."

„I know." Fretting, Felicity looked **worrisome **about the room. „Nevertheless, he is our first guest since I became your wife. I want everything to be flawless."

Oliver felt strangely touched by the sentimentality behind his wife's apprehension. „It will be, Snow flame. With you at the table, how could it be anything less?"

He was rewarded with a brilliant smile.

„Your Grace?" Mrs. Gates appeared at Felicity's elbow. „Forgive me for interrupting, but, as your dinner guest is due any moment, may I please be allowed to resume my duties? I've idled about as you insisted for a quarter hour. I assure you, I am quite renewed. And I'd like to make certain Cook has things well in hand."

„Of course." Felicity nodded cheerfully, wondering why her housekeeper seemed so flustered by a simple suggestion that she rest. „But call me if you or Cook need any help in the kitchen."

Mrs. Gates's mouth opened and closed several times."Yes, Your Grace." Still gasping, she returned to her domain. Laughter rumbled from Oliver's chest.

„Why are you laughing?" Felicity questioned. „And why is Mrs. Gates behaving so oddly?"

„I imagine she's wondering much the same about you," Oliver replied, desperately trying to straighten his face.

„I? What did I do that was odd? I merely offered my assistance … an offer she evidently found less than appealing. Am I really that dreadful a housekeeper?"

„I don't believe your skills are the issue, sweet. Tell me, who runs the house, or for that matter, the kitchen at Merlyn?"

„Mrs. Raisa runs both." Felicity smiled fondly as she explained. „She's been at the Merlyn Manor since I was a child, and she's quite indispensable. Why, the entire female staff reports to her for their duties. And with good reason. Oh Oliver, she's so wonderful. Not only is she an incomparable cook and housekeeper, she's also a fine, compassionate woman. Why, without her help ..." Abruptly, Felicity halted.

As always, Oliver's gaze probed deep inside his wife, touching a place only he could reach. „Without her, you couldn't have brought food to the village children," he finished, noting the flicker of surprise that crossed his wife's face. „I watched you at the schoolhouse that day. I saw you share yourself with the children. It wasn't difficult to put the pieces together and guess what you've been doing. Besides, I know you, Snow flame. Not only your beautiful body, but your even more beautiful soul. I thought by now you understood that." Tenderly, he cupped Felicity's face, his thumbs stroking her cheeks. „Mrs. Raisa sounds like a remarkable person. Almost as remarkable as the enchanting young woman she assisted." His fingers paused. „Never be afraid to tell me anything, least of all about your gifts to others. The days of being punished for your kindness are over. I'm so bloody proud of you. Your selflessness, especially with those children, means more to me than I can explain."

„You needn't explain," Felicity whispered, reaching up to kiss her husband's chin. „Because, you see, just as you know me, I know you, as well."

„So you do."

An instant of silence hung between them.

„Why did you ask about Mrs. Raisa?" Felicity inquired, studying her husband's veiled expression as if trying to assess its cause. „And what has she to do with Mrs. Gates's strange behavior?"

Oliver's brooding look vanished; his grin returned. „I suspect the late Duke and Duchess of Starling conducted themselves in a more conventional manner. Therefore, Mrs. Gates is as unaccustomed as the rest of the servants to ours, shall we say informal, overseeing of the staff."

„Oh." Felicity ingested that possibility. „You're saying my offer to help out in the kitchen was improper?"

„I'm saying that the offer was totally improper and equally wonderful. Never change, Felicity. Your decency and lack of arrogance are humbling. Even to me." Oliver's eyes twinkled. „Moreover, if Mrs. Gates is unsettled by your actions, imagine what Langley and Fryers are saying about mine. Why, poor Langley still clasps his gloved hands behind his back the instant he sees me approaching, terrified that I might repeat my original attempt to shake his hand in greeting. And Fryers continues to appear dutifully in my bed chamber each morning, desperately hoping I'll reconsider and allow him to dress and shave me, although I repeatedly tell him to give it up. I doubt if either of them will ever be quite the same again."

Felicity laughed, smoothing the ends of Oliver's cravat. „We are a bit disconcerting, now that you call it to my attention."

Seeing the glow in his wife's eyes, feeling her small, delicate hands on his chest, Oliver was seized by a surge of lust, coupled with other, more complex emotion, so powerful it nearly brought him to his knees.

„What is it?" Felicity reacted to the tensing of her husband's muscles.

Oliver stared down at her, feeling off balance in a way he'd never experienced and vulnerable in his inability to conquer it. Fiercely, he caught Felicity's fingers in his, brought her palms to his mouth, searching for words to explain what he himself couldn't fathom. „Your touch," he said hoarsely, responding to the only uncomplicated part of this madness … his lust. „The moment you put your hands on me, I'm on fire. It's as simple as that." He kissed the fluttering pulse at her wrist, traced the delicate veins with his tongue. „If the vicar wasn't due here this minute, I'd lock that damned door, lower you to the carpet, and make love to you until you begged me to stop."

Felicity made a soft sound of pleasure, rising up on tiptoes to brush Oliver's lips with her own. „If my begging you to stop is the prerequisite to our receiving visitors, then I fear Starling will be sadly lacking in guests."

With a rough sound, Oliver dragged her into his arms. „You tempt me beyond reason."

„That's not temptation," Felicity demurred, her expression as heated as his. „It is merely gambling where I'm certain I'll win."

„Damn." Oliver's hands slid down to her bottom, lifting her purposefully against the rigid contours of his lower body. „Is the vicar ever late?"

„Never." Felicity pressed closer, her face flushed. „He'll be here any second."

„The way I feel now, I won't require much more than that." Hungrily, Oliver covered her mouth with his.

„Mr. Lance."

Langley's proper announcement rang out, a deluge of ice water on Felicity and Oliver's intensifying embrace. Hastily, they broke apart, snapping about to face their mortified butler and distinguished dinner guest.

„F … forgive me, Your Grace," Langley attempted. „You told me to escort the vicar directly into the dining room."

„It's all right, Langley." As always, Oliver recovered his composure posthaste. „Thank you for showing the vicar in. You may leave us now."

Felicity was as shaken as the rapidly retreating butler. Blushing furiously, she went forward to greet her friend. "Vicar, I don't know what to say. I can imagine what you're thinking. I must have looked a total wanton."

„Shall I tell you how you looked, Snowdrop?" The clergyman smiled, reaching out to draw Felicity to him. With a gentle forefinger, he raised her chin, beholding the miraculous transformation six weeks had wrought. „You looked happy. Happy and unconstrained by the past. And I was thinking how wonderful it is, at last, to feel your joy and to see your eyes alight with love."

Misty eyed, Felicity hugged her lifelong friend. „I'm so glad you're here."

„As am I."

„Let me pour you a brandy before I make a total fool of myself." Dashing away her tears, Felicity crossed the room to the sideboard.

With an expression of profound satisfaction, the vicar turned to Oliver. „Thank you for inviting me."

Oliver shook his head. „You nurtured my wife for twenty years, offered her solace when she had none, and agreed to wed us without question or censure, despite the upheaval that precipitated our less-than-traditional ceremony. It is I who should be thanking you."

„You love Felicity," the vicar replied quietly, with uncanny insight. „It is all the thanks I need."

With that simple proclamation he went to get his brandy, leaving Oliver feeling as if he'd been punched. He was still reeling from his earlier emotional onslaught with Felicity, unnerved by the intensity of his feelings. That, combined with the vicar's declaration, was too much.

Inhaling slowly, Oliver fought for control and comprehension. It wasn't that the vicar's conclusion was wrong, nor that it was so extraordinary a revelation. Oliver had known he cared deeply about his wife for weeks, maybe months. But to hear those irrevocable words spoken aloud, not by Felicity, when she shuddered in his arms or curled close to his side, but by a stranger … a stranger who referred, not to Felicity's feelings for him, but to his for her. Lord, the impact was staggering.

„Oliver? Would you like a brandy?"

Felicity's quizzical tone indicated that this was not the first time she'd asked.

„Yes, brandy would be excellent right about now." Turning toward the sideboard, Oliver took the offered glass, drained it, then poured himself another.

„Are you all right?" Felicity asked.

„Never better." He tossed off the second drink, refilling the glass yet again.

„I think your husband is just nervous," Lance put in, visibly amused. „Perhaps my visit is proving to be more taxing than he expected."

„Indeed." Oliver stared broodingly into his drink.

„What on earth are the two of you talking about?" Felicity demanded. „Nothing unnerves Oliver, so why should a dinner gathering?"

„Perhaps that was true once, but no longer." The vicar sipped at his drink. „Not since you became his wife, Snowdrop. Now, anything that affects you affects your husband. Which is as it should be. You'll be cared for and safe."

Oliver's head came up, like a wolf scenting danger. „Safe? Has Merlyn …?"

„No, nothing like that." Lance negated Oliver's fears with an emphatic shake of his head. „I was just speaking generally. I haven't seen Malcolm since the two of you signed your agreement. I didn't mean to alarm you."

„You're certain you haven't seen him? Not even at Rutland?"

Felicity stared from one man to the other. "You've been at Rutland?" she asked the vicar at last.

„I wanted to verify that your mother was well." He smiled. „Which, as you know, she is."

„We visited Mama last week." Felicity inclined her head in Oliver's direction. „You knew of the vicar's visits?"

„My guards advised me, yes."

„You said nothing." Felicity's brows drew together. „Neither, for that matter, did Mama."

A corner of Oliver's mouth lifted. „Despite my unorthodox upbringing, I do believe it is the mother who oversees her children, not the other way around."

„I suppose so. Still, I would think she'd say something."

„Not to mention how abbreviated our visit was." Oliver's eyes twinkled wickedly. "The two of you had barely begun chatting when our carriage was on its way back to Starling. There was hardly time for tea, much less conversation. It appears you and I have become surprisingly attached to this estate. One venture from its grounds and we can scarcely wait to return. An interesting twist of fate."

„Let me refill your drink, Vicar," Felicity urged hastily, her charming blush telling Oliver she'd grasped the implication of his words.

„I haven't finished this one." The vicar looked suspiciously close to laughter. „But I am quite famished," he added, graciously providing Felicity with the diversion she sought. „And whatever your cook has prepared smells superb."

„Wonderful!" Felicity gestured toward the table. „Please, sit. I'll check with Cook to see if our first course is ready."

Her departure was nearly as rapid as Langley's.

Chuckling, Oliver watched Felicity bolt, thinking how damned arousing her innocence was, how intoxicating he found each one of her facets. So shy in public, so passionate in bed. His beautiful, dazzling Snow flame.

„There's no shame in loving your wife," the vicar murmured, studying Oliver with far-reaching wisdom.

„No, there isn't." Stiffening, Oliver made his way to the table and lowered himself into his chair. „Shame is not an issue. Risk is."

„Risk?" The vicar frowned, settling himself beside Oliver and immediately concentrating on the task of unfolding his napkin. „Funny, I seem to recall Felicity mentioning you were an exceptional gambler. According to her, the Starling investments have soared since you assumed your title."

„She's right. I am an exceptional gambler. And part of being an exceptional gambler is recognizing what you're willing to wager and what you're not. Sometimes the risk is simply too great."

„And sometimes the risk is nonexistent."

A muscle worked in Oliver's jaw.

„Felicity is deeply in love with you. You're a lucky man, one who has everything to gain and nothing to lose."

„Nothing to lose? I beg to differ with you, Vicar. I'm submerged in unchartered waters, wagering something I never knew I possessed and can't fathom losing. In short, I'm terrified." Oliver averted his head. „You say I'm lucky. Well, I've never relied upon luck, nor has it ever been my ally. All my life I fought for what I needed: food, money, survival. I battled for each victory with my blood, my sweat, or both. Now I'm being offered this rare and priceless gift, one I need far more than all the others combined." He drew a sharp breath. „And I keep waiting for it to be snatched away."

„You're a fine, compassionate man, Oliver. Did it ever occur to you that this blessing won't be snatched away? That, perhaps, after the life you've just described, you truly deserve some happiness?" The clergyman cleared his throat. „I'm not privy to all the details of your past. But I am witnessing your present and, hopefully, your future. And yes, as I said, you are indeed lucky. Felicity's love belongs to you and that is a gift more precious than money can buy. But Felicity is equally lucky. Because, whether you perceive it or not, your love belongs to her as well."

As if to accentuate the fact, Felicity's laughter drifted in from the butler's pantry, filling Oliver's heart like a warm summer breeze.

Warily, he nodded. „I can't argue with what I know to be true. Nevertheless, the reality is overwhelming. I've relied only upon myself for thirty years. I'm going to need some time to adjust."

„As I recall, you have until death do you part."

„I return the compliment."

Again, silence.

„You've something else on your mind," Lance stated quietly. „Feel free to speak it."

„Very well. You've known Felicity's father a long time. Do you think he'll honor our agreement?"

„You're worried."

„I have reason to be."

„Evidently, you know Malcolm as well as I do."

„Too well," was the bitter reply. „And his lack of retaliation is making me very nervous."

„Perhaps having unlimited access to his funds is enough vengeance for him."

Oliver gave a harsh laugh. „Hardly. Merlyn's vengeance would be to see me in hell."

„Then he's destined to be disappointed. Your hell is in the past. You won't see another."

A slight smile, followed by a measured look. „Vicar, I presume you've know the marchioness for many years, as well."

„Donna? Yes. Many years."

„Then perhaps you can shed light on another concern of mine. Do you think Felicity's mother has the strength to pursue a divorce?"

Lance looked more sad rather than startled. „Perhaps once my answer might have been yes. But now? After one and twenty years of torment? I seriously doubt it." He stared at the tablecloth. „Am I to presume you've given thought to aiding Donna in severing her with Malcolm?"

„I have. Great thought."

„And your grounds? Extreme cruelty?"

„Given the physical violence she's endured, yes, without question. But I wouldn't stop with the Church. I'd demand an Act of Parliament, granting the marchioness a legal divorce."

Now the vicar has started. „I assumed you meant divorce, a _mensa et a thoro_, a Church-granted separation to protect Donna from Malcolm's cruelty. But a legal divorce? That is unheard of."

„Unusual, Vicar, but not unheard of." Oliver's jaw set in staunch determination. „The separation you've just described has ramifications I refuse to abide. Donna would be safe, yes, but she'd also be permanently alone, unable to remarry. Worse than that, Felicity would be rendered illegitimate."

„You'd have to take your suit to the House of Lords."

„To a Court of the Common Law and the House of Lords," Oliver corrected. „I'm prepared to do both. Surely you can understand why. I've endured thirty years as a bastard, Vicar. I'd sell my soul before allowing Felicity to bear the brand of illegitimacy. The only way I have of protecting her is to secure, not only a religious, but a legal divorce for her mother."

The vicar drew a slow, inward breath. „I, of all people, am yearning for Donna's happiness. But a Parliamentary grant is rare enough for a man to obtain. Donna is a woman. That makes your goal next to impossible, even with unlimited wealth and influence."

„As I told you earlier, I'm an exceptional gambler, one who has taken on far more insurmountable odds than these and won. As for wealth and influence, I have more than enough of both. I can make this divorce happen, I assure you. But not unless Felicity's mother truly wants it, wants it badly enough to let me fight for her freedom."

„She'd be ostracized by nearly everyone she knows."

„Perhaps. But do you truly believe that would be a great enough deterrent to stop her?"

„No," the vicar replied, his tone rich with memory's keen recall. „Deep inside Donna lies the same strong and independent girl I knew in my youth."

„I agree. I've seen traces of that girl myself."

The two men's gazes locked.

Roughly, Lance cleared his throat. „What can I do to help?"

„Talk to her. I think we both know she'll listen to you."

„Very well, Oliver. I'll try."

„Cook is hovering over our first course, ensuring its perfection," Felicity announced as she re-entered the room. „Having tasted it myself, I can assure you it is heavenly. She, however, is dubious. Hence, the entire staff, footmen and serving girls alike, are cajoling her into relinquishing it into their capable hands. Whoever is successful will be a long straightaway with our food." Instantly, Felicity's alert gaze flickered from her husband to her old friend. „What are you two discussing so heatedly?"

„You," Oliver replied, coming to his feet. „The vicar was just reminding me of my great fortune and excellent taste in wives."

„And your husband was just concurring with my assessment," Lance added.

Felicity flushed. „You're both inordinately biased. Besides, it is I who am fortunate. Not many women can boast of dining with two such heroic men at one time." She smiled up at Oliver, settling herself at the table. „Speaking of heroics," she turned to the vicar, „did Oliver tell you he plans to donate all the profits he reaped from his latest business investment … nearly twenty thousand pounds … to the parish schoolhouse? Why, with that vast sum, we can provide, not only a new roof, but a whole new structure … a sturdier, warmer one, perhaps even of brick, plus new slates, books," Felicity's eyes twinkled, „even higher wages for Miss Smith. Why, our subdued schoolmistress might just break down and smile; even laugh outright."

„No, he didn't mention it." A myriad of emotions crossed the vicar's face. „God bless you, Oliver. Such generosity defies words."

„None are necessary." Determination hardened Oliver's features. „Children need both love and hope in order to survive, much less flourish. I have the funds to provide them with hope, and Felicity has the fullness of heart to provide them with love. If my wife and I have our way, those children will never know the burden of futility."

Joy and pride shone in Felicity's eyes, followed by a spark of illumination. „Vicar, what would you think about the children and us helping to rebuild their schoolhouse? I know we're not trained," she added hastily, seeing the vicar's surprised expression, „and perhaps all we can do is hand tools to the workmen. But think of the sense of fellowship it would give the children, the wondrous feeling of working side by side to accomplish something important to us all. Why, we'd be like a family, a unit. Wouldn't that teach them one of life's most important lessons: that respect, cooperation, and hard work yield success? Wouldn't it give them a tremendous sense of accomplishment? Of sharing? Of pride?"

„Enough!" the vicar laughed. „I can't dispute your point, Snowdrop. Nor can I think of any reason why we can't participate in the school's restoration."

„Oliver?" Felicity waited for her husband's response.

A corner of Oliver's mouth lifted. „It's December, sweetheart. Hardly the time to begin so massive an undertaking."

„But the roof is old and rotted. It can't last until spring." Felicity sat up straighter as another idea dawned. „How would it be if we replaced the roof immediately, and waited to rebuild the schoolhouse until spring? That would give us time to hire an architect who could, in turn, have three months to devise the most beneficial plans possible for a new school. We'd begin building on the site just after the first thaw. Why, we'd have months to erect the new structure."

Laughter erupted from Oliver's chest. „How can I argue with such unbridled enthusiasm? Your plan is excellent. I'll begin contacting workmen tomorrow. The new roof is as good as on."

„Oh, thank you, Oliver." Felicity leaned forward, impulsively hugging her husband. „When may we tell the children? I've missed visiting them, and I so want you to meet them, and they you. Perhaps we can convince Flash to finally join us."

„Vicar?" Oliver turned to their guest. „When is your next scheduled visit to the schoolhouse? My wife, her fox, and I would like to join you."

„I have business to attend to over the next few days," Lance said, giving Oliver a meaningful look. „How would next week be?"

„Excellent," Oliver concurred at once.

„No, it isn't." Felicity looked positively crestfallen. „We accepted our first holiday invitation for next week. Viscount Benchley is hosting a lavish Christmas party at his country estate. We agreed to attend weeks ago."

„We could send our regrets," Oliver suggested.

„Don't tempt her," the vicar said affectionately. „Given a choice between an elegant ball and an afternoon at the schoolhouse, Felicity will undoubtedly opt for the latter." Growing sober, he took Felicity's hand. „I want you to go, Snowdrop. The happiness will do you good. Besides, the joy you share with your new husband is contagious. Perhaps you can infect others with it."

„But the children ..."

„When does the party begin?"

„We leave for Benchley on Wednesday."

„Excellent. Then we shall visit the school on Monday. How would that be?"

„That would be wonderful." Felicity squeezed his hand. „Thank you, Vicar." She glanced up as a slender serving girl entered the room carrying a tray with three steaming bowls of artichoke soup. „At last! Our first course has arrived. Congratulations, Jane. I feared Cook might never be persuaded to relinquish her soup. Now hurry along and have a bowl yourself, you and the rest of the staff. Cook made enough for an army."

„Yes, ma'am, she did." The girl's head bobbed up and down, a genuine smile alighting her face. „Thank you, ma'am." She scurried off.

„Wait until you sample this," Felicity told the vicar proudly. „You may decide never to leave."

Two hours later, full of roast pheasant, stewed mushrooms, Yorkshire pudding, and lemon pie, the vicar wholeheartedly agreed.

Pushing back his plate, he groaned. „You were right, Snowdrop. Not only do I not wish to leave such a splendid feast, I fear I might never be able to. With the massive amounts of food I've just consumed, I doubt I can stand, much less walk."

Felicity laughed, rising from the table. „Why don't we adjourn to the sitting room? I'm sure some conversation and an exceptional glass of claret will do wonders for ..." She broke off, swaying on her feet, groping for a nonexistent object upon which to brace herself.

Oliver caught her just before she fell.

„She's fainted," the vicar said, his features tight with concern.

„She's white as a sheet," Oliver managed, looking as pale as his wife. Swiftly, he carried Felicity into the sitting room where he placed her gently on the sofa. „Snow flame?" Lightly, he stroked her face, brushing tendrils of hair from her forehead. When she didn't respond, he turned paralyzed eyes to the vicar. „What do I do?"

Instantly, the vicar appraised the situation. Oliver was bordering on panic. In that state, he could do nothing but get in the way. „Go to Felicity's bed chamber. I'm certain you'll find a vial of smelling salts there.

Oliver's eyes narrowed. „This has happened before?"

„On occasion, yes."

Comprehension dawned. „When that bloody bastard beat her."

„Get the smelling salts, Oliver," the vicar instructed quietly. ""Felicity will be fine."

This time Oliver complied, taking the steps two at a time, bursting into Felicity's bed chamber like a man possessed. „Lily!" he bellowed. Not waiting for a reply, he began flinging items from Felicity's dressing table, frantically searching for the vial he sought.

Nothing.

Her nightstand.

Turning around, Oliver crossed the room, yanking open Felicity's nightstand drawer. The vial was right in front, the first thing he spied. Seizing it, he raced back to the sitting room where the vicar, surrounded by over a dozen worried servants, was pressing cold compresses to Felicity's forehead.

„Let me through," Oliver ordered. Instantly, the servants complied, hastily making a path for the duke to pass. He knelt at Felicity's side, waving the vial beneath her nose. „Please, sweetheart. Open your eyes. Damn it, Vicar, she's been unconscious for at least a quarter hour!"

„It's been a scant two minutes, Oliver. See? There, she's coming around."

Felicity shook her head and blinked, slowly opening her eyes. „Oliver?" She pushed the smelling salts away, her fingers going to the cold cloth against her forehead. „What happened? Why are you all staring at me?"

„You fainted, Snow flame. You scared the hell out of me. Are you all right?"

„Yes, I'm fine. That's odd. I normally never faint unless Father ..."

She saw the murderous glint in Oliver's eyes and checked herself.

„Is the duchess well, Your Grace?" Langley demanded.

„Apparently, yes. Nevertheless, she is going straight to bed." So saying, Oliver scooped Felicity into his arms and rose. „Vicar, you'll forgive us. I want Felicity to rest."

„Of course."

„I don't need rest," Felicity protested.

„You're going to get it anyway." Oliver was already halfway across the room.

„Vicar, don't forget our visit to the schoolhouse Monday," Felicity called over her husband's retreating shoulder.

„I won't. In the meantime, you take care of yourself."

„Really, Oliver, this is ridiculous," Felicity whispered.

Her husband's taut jaw told her she was wasting her time.

„Where the hell is Lily?" Oliver demanded, depositing Felicity on her bed.

„I gave her the evening off."

„Fine. Then I'll stand in as your lady's maid."

Felicity couldn't suppress a smile. With his towering height, powerful build, and smoldering expression, Oliver looked about as much like a lady's maid as an avenging Greek god. „Are you adept at braiding hair?"

„Very amusing." He began unbuttoning the back of her gown.

„Oliver, I really am fine," she said softly, stroking his arm.

„And you'll be fine still once you've rested." Systematically, he undressed her down to her chemise, then tucked her beneath the bed covers. „Mr. Lance seemed unsurprised by your fainting spell. In fact, he was even aware that you kept smelling salts. Why is that?"

With a resigned sigh, Felicity replied, „Because this has happened two or three times in the past, when I was particularly overwrought by an encounter with Father."

„An encounter," Oliver echoed bitterly. „You mean a thrashing. I take it that means you've shared the full extent of your father's brutality with the vicar."

„No." Felicity shook her head, a troubled frown forming on her face. „The vicar knows only that Father strikes me when his temper overcomes his reason. But constant beatings? The scars on my back? Only you know of those, Oliver." She gripped her husband's forearms tightly. „If the vicar were privy to the whole truth, it would kill him. Not only for me, but for Mama."

Privately, Oliver disagreed with Felicity's assessment of the vicar's insights. Perhaps the clergyman had never viewed Felicity's or Donna's scars firsthand, but the anguish on his face when he'd spoken of Donna's torment, the resignation in his voice … no, Oliver was certain Lance perceived only too well what transpired under Merlyn's roof. And that perception, together with his own helpless inability to set things right, was tearing him apart.

„Oliver?" Felicity probed anxiously. „You won't tell him, will you?"

„No, Snow flame," Oliver assured his wife. „I won't burden the vicar with any more than he already knows. What you've shared with me, showed me, will remain between us. However, I'm now thoroughly confused. You just said your previous fainting spells were caused by episodes with your father. Yet, in order to keep the truth from Mr. Lance I have to assume you didn't flee directly to the church after your father's assaults; that you waited long enough to compose yourself. Therefore, how could the vicar have been with you when you fainted?"

Felicity plucked at the bed covers, attempting to explain something she wasn't sure could be conveyed. „I didn't compose myself. I was quite hysterical when I reached the church."

„I don't understand."

„I know. But I believe you of all people can. For my most terrifying moments, like yours, were caused not by physical but emotional pain. The salvation I craved and that which the vicar provided, the times when circumstances seemed most unbearable, came not after Father had beaten me, but rather after days had passed when he hadn't." She shuddered. „I can't begin to describe my mounting dread, lying awake, night after night, never knowing when my bed chamber door would burst open and Father would charge in, eyes ablaze, stick clenched violently in his fist."

„You don't have to describe that feeling," Oliver broke in, assailed by dark childhood memories.

Felicity nodded and drew a slow, trembling breath. „I thought not. In any case, there were times the apprehension became unendurable. I dared not go to Mama. The consequences would be dire. So I raced to the church, and the vicar. He was all I had until you. And, in answer to your question, he demanded no explanation nor did I provide one. I wept, and he took my hands in his, offered me his prayers and his friendship. Several times that wasn't enough. The combination of my nerves, which were long since frayed, and the frantic run to the village sapped my strength to the point where my body simply gave out."

„And you fainted."

„Yes."

With painstaking tenderness, Oliver gathered Felicity to him, pressing her head against his shoulder. „Never again," he said, his voice hoarse with emotion. „Never again will you be without the strength you need. When your own subsides, mine will replace it." Softly, he kissed her hair.

„But why tonight, Snow flame?" he murmured. „You were so happy. And you're far away from Merlyn, unthreatened by your father's rage. What caused you to faint?"

With a self-deprecating smile, Felicity leaned back in his arms. „Stupidity. Mingled with excitement. I was so caught up with the arrangements for tonight, and the arrival of our first dinner guest, that I skipped breakfast and didn't eat all day. That wine I drank at dinner must have gone straight to my head."

„You're right," Oliver retorted, nearly weak with relief. „It was stupid. Now go to sleep. And don't scare me like that again."

Felicity laughed, unfooled by her husband's show of bravado. „You become more heroic by the day. Reluctant, perhaps, unconventional, for certain, but heroic." She yawned, settling back against the pillows. „I'm not the least bit tired." Her lashes drifted to her cheeks.

Seconds later, she was asleep.

For long moments Oliver remained where he was, drinking in his wife's incredible, untainted beauty, not only that which was visible to the eye, but that which was not. How fiercely she protected those she loved, even at the risk of her own safety. And her values … as unsullied and precious as the innocence she'd gifted only to him. A one-guest dinner party and the concept of restoring a battered roof exhilarated her more than a deluge of elegant balls and a strongbox of jewels. Her heart was full … with love, with compassion, with the wonder of discovery. And, by some miracle, that incomparable heart belonged to him.

As his did to her.

Oliver rose, walking inanely about the room. He'd never uttered the words I _love you_ aloud, never even dreamed he was capable of feeling them. But all that was once dead inside him had been reborn that fateful day at the Stakes when Felicity came into his life. And whether he uttered the words or not, they were there.

Reveling in this strange, new emotion, Oliver glanced back at the bed, smiling when he saw how deeply asleep his "untired" wife was. He strolled over to the nightstand, intending to extinguish the lamp. Noting the chaos he'd created in her open drawer, he paused to rearrange the items he'd flung about in his earlier search for smelling salts. He was about to slide the drawer shut when the corner of a sheet of paper caught his eye. The headline, „Green Arrow Bandit Eludes Authorities Again," immediately captured his attention.

Without thinking, he reached in to extract the paper, only to find that it was part of a bound volume of some sort. His curiosity thoroughly aroused, Oliver eased the book from its home, opening the volume to scan its contents.

„Bandit Succeeds—Workhouse Prospers!," was the first headline Oliver turned to. He recognized the article at once. It was one of the first reported by the London Times when the bandit had made his debut amid the beau monde.

Brows drawn in bafflement, Oliver turned the page once, twice, three times. Each page was the same: an article recounting the bandit's latest crime, right up to his most recent theft at the Earl of Gaynor's Mansfield estate, together with the authorities' frustration at not being able to thwart the mysterious phantom who preyed on the rich and gave to the needy.

What Oliver was holding was a damned testimonial to the Green Arrow Bandit.

Slamming the book onto the nightstand, Oliver was seized by unreasonable, irrational jealousy that blasted through him like gunfire. At the same time, he was appalled at the ludicrousness of his own reaction. What the hell was he jealous of? He was the bandit, for God's sake. Not to mention the fact that the bandit wasn't actually a man, but a legend, a valiant figment of Felicity's fanciful mind.

But he wasn't only a legend, damn it. He was flesh and blood, a man Felicity had met in the intimacy of her own bed chamber. They'd stood tantalizingly close, heat blazing between them, and her response to his touch had not been his imagination. He was a man, all right, one who had wanted Felicity Merlyn with every fiber of his being.

What was more, the blossoming woman within Felicity had wanted him, too.

She hadn't … couldn't … have recognized that, he argued with himself for the umpteenth time. She was too damned naive.

Still, she'd gazed up at him, adoration lighting those mesmerizing blue eyes, and her breath had quickened when he'd come near. Consciously or not, she'd responded to him. And all this time he'd excused it away with the fact that she'd never been this close to a man and was therefore too inexperienced to recognize what was happening or to dismiss it in lieu of something real …. the something she experienced in Oliver's arms.

But she was a married woman now. And she bloody well understood what passion was about. Hell, not mere passion. Explosive, consuming passion that was intensified all the more by the fact that it was rooted in love. She belonged to him, body and soul. So why the hell had she brought that bloody journal with her to her new life as his wife?

No. Anyway he contemplated it, the result was the same. His wife, in love with him or not, was at the same time completely enthralled with another man.

Even as he flinched at the thought, Oliver shook his head in self-censuring disbelief. For the love of heaven, he was behaving as if Felicity had been unfaithful to him.

Well, hadn't she?

No. Yes. In a matter of speaking.

Oliver uttered a muffled curse. His deduction was utter lunacy, and he knew it, and that only served to heighten his rage. Felicity's betrayal, if one could call it that, was only in thought, not fact. Yet it was still thoroughly untenable. Especially tonight, when he'd finally admitted to himself that he loved her, when the vulnerability spawned by his newly acknowledged emotions demanded that she belong wholly and forever to him.

Determinedly, Oliver lowered himself to the edge of a chair, gripping his knees as he began his evening vigil. He'd wait for Felicity to waken.

At which time she had a great deal of explaining to do.

The heavyset man arrived at Merlyn Manor precisely on schedule. Ushered to the marquis's study, he extracted a folded sheet of paper from his coat pocket and shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other.

„You have a report for me?" Merlyn demanded, sipping at his brandy.

„Yes, sir. However, my findings are rather disappointing."

„I'll be the judge of that."

„Very well." The man cleared his throat. „Lady Merlyn has received a mere three visitors at Rutland."

„Really? Who?"

„Your daughter, for one. Accompanied by her new husband."

Merlyn waved that information away. „And the third guest?"

Pudgy cheeks drooped lower still. „Your church vicar."

The marquis's glass came down with a thud. „Lance?" His eyes glinted. „You're certain?"

A nod. „I'm certain. Is that significant?"

„I don't pay you to ask questions, Larson. I pay you to answer them." Merlyn walked around to the front of his desk. „How many times did the vicar call on my wife?"

„Twice."

„And how long did he stay?"

Larson glanced at his notes. „A quarter hour the first time, a bit longer the second."

„Let me see that." Merlyn snatched the paper from Larson, scanning it with the greatest of interest.

„That copy is yours, my lord."

„Excellent." With a grand sweep, Merlyn placed the page on his desk. „Precisely what I'd hoped to see," Reaching into his pocket, he extracted a hundred-pound note. „Here's something for your diligence, Larson. Now keep up the fine work."

The investigator blinked, accepting the note with as much bewilderment as pleasure. „Keep up…? I thought you'd no longer require my services. I mean, given that your wife hasn't done anything indiscreet."

„I beg to differ with you." An ugly smile curved Merlyn's lips. „I need your services now more than ever. So return to your post. I'll expect your next report in a week."

Larson shrugged. „Whatever you say, sir."

„Good. We understand each other. Good night, Larson."

„Good night, my lord." Larson took his leave, greedily fingering the hundred-pound note before shoving it into his pocket.

Harsh laughter exploded from Merlyn's chest. Let the fool have his hundred pounds. If things continued as planned, the rewards would render that sum insignificant.

Yes, in a very short time the Marquis of Merlyn would have money to burn.


	18. Chapter 17

**Chapter 17**

It was just after midnight when Felicity opened her eyes.

She was greeted by Oliver's brooding stare.

„Oliver?" She pushed herself to a sitting position, wondering with sleepy disorientation why her husband looked so angry. „What time is it?"

„Five after twelve. You've been asleep for nearly three hours."

„Three hours? I must have been more exhausted than I realized." She inclined her head quizzically. „Is something wrong?"

„Wrong? Yes." Oliver bolted to his feet, snatching the journal from her nightstand and thrusting it at her. „This is wrong."

Briefly, Felicity glanced at the journal. Then, her gaze lifted back to her husband. „It's a collection of articles reporting the triumphs of the Green Arrow Bandit."

„I _know_ what it is," he snapped. „What I _don't _know is why you have it."

Felicity gave him a baffled look. „I collected it."

„Obviously. But why?"

She blinked. „Because I admire him more than I can say. Because he's a hero. In my opinion, one of the greatest heroes of our time, despite his unorthodox methods."

„How touching." Oliver tossed the journal aside, struggling with a blistering resurgence of jealousy.

„I don't understand why this angers you so." Felicity rose from the bed, staring at Oliver with a thoroughly perplexed expression. „Surely, you don't condemn me for applauding someone who takes from the rich and greedy and bestows upon those in need?"

„For applauding him, no. But that," Oliver gestured toward the journal, „is not acclaim, it's preoccupation."

Felicity looked torn between annoyance and laughter. „This conversation is ridiculous."

„Why? Because it troubles me that my wife keeps an ever growing testimonial to another man?"

„Another man? My only link to the bandit is through these articles, Oliver. I would hardly describe that as a scandalous relationship. Why, I've barely even spoken to ..." She broke off, blushing furiously.

„You've barely even spoken to him?" Oliver jumped on her words. „So you've met this incomparable bandit."

„Only once." Felicity averted her head. „The night he robbed Merlyn Manor. I awakened during the theft. We exchanged a few words, nothing more."

„And where did you come upon him? The library? The sitting room?"

„Your bed chamber," Oliver repeated.

„Yes. He came to take my jewelry. I arose and assisted him." With a deep breath, Felicity raised her head, her chin set proudly. „I asked that he give the night's booty to the House of Eternal Hope. He agreed. I then placed his jewel and green arrow on my father's pillow, thus allowing him to make his escape."

A muscle worked in Olive's jaw. „Have you any idea what your father would have done to you if he'd discovered your actions?"

„Of course. It didn't dissuade me then. It wouldn't even now. I'd do the same thing all over again, given the chance. And so would you."

Oliver couldn't dispute that logic. Neither, however, could he dispel his aching sense of betrayal, ludicrous or not. „Tell me about him."

„The bandit? There's nothing to tell. As I said, we scarcely spoke. If it's his appearance you're curious about, I could make out very little. He was swathed in green, from boots to hood. Completely concealed. As was his voice, which he kept to a rasp." Felicity shrugged. „That's the entirety of it."

„Did he touch you?" Oliver was appalled to hear himself blurt.

„Touch me?" The color was back on her cheeks. „I believe he touched my hair."

„You _believe_?"

„All right, yes, he touched my hair. It was clearly an expression of appreciation. He made no improper advances, if that's what you're attempting to discern."

„Would you recognize it if he had?"

„You were so bloody innocent. How would you know if a man was making an advance?"

Felicity's lips twitched. „I recall identifying your advances, despite my lack of experience." She wrapped her arms about Oliver's waist. „You're behaving irrationally, you know."

„Don't you think I know that?" he bit out, enfolding her against him, tangling his fingers in her hair. „I've been wild ever since I discovered that journal, smoldering while I waited for you to awaken and explain it away. And, yes, I hear every senseless word I'm raving. I sound like a crazed lunatic, and yet I can't seem to stop myself. I, the consummate gambler, the unruffleable, level-headed essence of reason. I'm jealous of a bloody phantom? A marauder of the night who exists more in people's minds than in fact? Damn it!" He shook his head in self-deprecating amazement, struck by the full irony of the situation. What would his wife say if she knew that the man he resented was none other than himself? „I must be losing my mind."

„No," Felicity whispered, rubbing her cheek against Oliver's shirt. „Your heart, perhaps, but not your mind. As for sounding like a crazed lunatic, I disagree. What you sound like is possessiveness and perhaps a bit of vulnerability. Given the circumstances, both are understandable." She laid her hand over his heart. „The vulnerability will subside once you accept the truth: that the risk you fear is unfounded and nonexistent."

„Felicity." Oliver's gaze bore into hers, her name an agonized rumble from deep within his chest.

„I love you," she breathed back, a healing balm to his tortured senses. „Only you. Always you."

The inescapable prison he has carried inside him shattered, capitulating at last beneath his wife's gentle attempts to breach its unyielding walls. The senseless envy that had dominated his heart until moments ago receded beneath the intensity of something far more powerful, and the knowledge that, once he gave voice to the words, the circle would be complete and no one, bandit or otherwise, could sever the bond that forged between them.

Oliver brought Felicity's palms to his lips, determined, now more than ever, to say aloud what he knew to be true, thus relinquishing the emotional isolation that had defined his past. „I want to give you the words," he began.

Felicity silenced him with a gentle forefinger to his lips. „You already have. It isn't necessary for you to speak them."

„Yes, it is. Moreover, I _want_ to speak them." Oliver kissed the delicate veins at her wrists, the scented skin of her forearms, her shoulders. Slowly, his fingers traced the lacy edge of her chemise where it dipped down at her breasts. „But I want to speak them my way."

Felicity's gaze was fixed on his roving hand, her breath already unsteady. „Your way?"

„Um hum." Oliver watched as soft color suffused her skin, his own body quickening in response. „I've waited thirty years to say these words, precious words I never expected to feel, much less say. So forgive me for being a bit selfish about the circumstances under which they are said."

„How do you wish ..."

Felicity's question caught in her throat as Oliver reached down, catching the hem of her chemise and tugging it up and over her head. „In bed," he answered, drinking in her flawless nudity with a hotly intimate look that made her tremble. „When I'm deep inside you. When I can watch your face, your every expression, when I can see, taste, savor your reaction as I tell you, show you, how I feel. Is that all right?"

Dazedly, Felicity nodded, her husband's vows shivering through her. „Can it be now?" she asked in a hushed, heated whisper. „I don't think I can wait."

„And I've waited too long already." Oliver yanked his clothes from his body, flinging them haphazardly about the room, pressing Felicity back into the bed covers and following her down. „No barriers, my beautiful wife," he murmured, taking her mouth under his. „Nothing but us … and this."

Felicity whimpered, opening instantly to the demand of Oliver's lips. Passion exploded at the first glide of his tongue against hers, their kisses turning frantic, hungry, filled with poignant discovery and aching wonder.

Casting all past demons aside, Oliver gave himself to his wife as he never had before, showing her, not only that she belonged to him, but that he belonged to her as well.

„Touch me," he commanded, capturing her hand and bringing it to his chest. „Touch me everywhere, and feel what you do to me, how much I need you."

Felicity instantly understood what her husband's request implied; eagerly embraced the gift she was being offered. Without hesitation, ran her fingers down his chest, the hard muscles that defined the powerful width of his shoulders and arms. Lovingly, she caressed his back, tracing a line to its base, absorbing Oliver's shudder as she stroked his buttocks, the solid columns of his thighs. With a breathy sigh, she moved around to his abdomen, and Oliver gritted his teeth as her fingers drifted lower, lower still.

He was totally unprepared for the impact of her touch. When Felicity's feather-light fingers brushed his rigid shaft, then curled around to explore its pulsing length, a hoarse groan erupted from his chest and he squeezed his eyes shut, struggling to curtail the hot release already clamoring at his loins.

Instantly, Felicity paused. „Am I hurting you?" she whispered.

Despite the nearly unbearable passion surging through him, Oliver smiled. „Not hurting me. Killing me. Christ." He moved against her hand, another groan shuddering from his chest.

„Shall I stop?"

„Never. Never, Snow flame."

„But ..."

Oliver opened his eyes, forcing himself under control at least long enough to erase the concern from Felicity's face. „When you cry out my name, beg me to stop, do you really want me to?"

A spark of understanding lit her face. „No."

„Then don't even consider ending your torture. It's heaven … and hell."

Tentatively, Felicity caressed him again, lingering on the velvety tip when Oliver growled harshly, caught her wrist in a vise grip. „Is that good?"

He couldn't speak.

She repeated the caress, fascinated by the warm droplets of fluid that greeted her touch, awed by the very essence that was Oliver.

„Men and women are more alike than I realized," she murmured, more to herself than to him. „I wonder … what pleases me, would it please you as well?"

He might have nodded. He didn't know, or care. For at that moment Felicity bent her head, her silky hair sweeping across his thighs as she took him into her mouth, learning his taste as he had hers.

And the world ceased to exist.

Oliver unraveled at her first exquisite contact, the first brush of her tongue against his throbbing flesh. He heard his irrepressible shout, felt his body and his mind reel out of control. Nothing existed, but Felicity's touch, the unendurable ecstasy of being possessed by her hands, her mouth, her breath as it rippled over his painfully sensitive shaft. He tangled his hands in her hair, urging her closer, begging her to take more and more of him, a dark haze dominating his senses as every fiber of his being screamed for release.

In an instant it would be too late.

Abruptly, he shook his head, pushing her away with his last remaining shred of sanity. „No," he gasped. „Not this time. Not this way." He rolled her beneath him before she could finish her initial protest. „Felicity." Every muscle in his body was taut to breaking as he fought back his raging climax.

She responded to the urgency of his tone, her lashes lifting to meet the smoldering frenzy of his gaze.

„Do you feel it?" he demanded, dragging air into his lungs in great gulps. „Do you, Snow flame?"

„Yes," she whispered, opening herself to him as she caressed his trembling forearms. „Oh, yes."

Oliver captured her hands in his, lifting both arms over her head and interlacing their fingers, all the while refusing to relinquish her stare. „I love you." His words coincided with his body's initial penetration. Parting the delicate folds of her skin, he pressed into her welcome wetness, tightening his grasp on her fingers as he battled for a final vestige of control. „I love you," he repeated hoarsely, pushing forward until they were one.

Two tears slid down Felicity's cheeks.

Instantly, Oliver stilled. „Am I hurting you?"

Felicity smiled through her tears, reiterating the very words he had used mere moments ago. „Not hurting me. Killing me. But don't even consider ending your torture."

Oliver laughed, a husky, primitive sound of pure male satisfaction. „Never, my beautiful wife. Never." His words ended in an agonized groan as Felicity raised her hips, drew him deeper inside her. And everything inside him snapped.

Throwing his head back, Oliver began to move in hard, frantic strokes. „I can't." Sweat drenched his back. „Felicity, I can't wait."

From far away he heard her high, feverish cry. Dimly, he felt her legs clamp around his waist, her fingers tighten in his as she met his wildness, thrust for thrust. Already delayed beyond endurance, his climax erupted in a heartbeat, tearing through his loins, setting fire to his every nerve ending as it exploded from his body into Felicity's in an endless, scalding torrent. He shouted her name, unable to still the driving motion of his hips, lunging forward again and again as he poured his being into hers.

He felt Felicity tense, her body arching like a bowstring as the fire ignited, spread as wildly through his wife as it had through him. She cried out, once, twice, then tossed her head on the pillow as the spiraling began, spasms of completion that escalated higher and harder than ever before.

Oliver shuddered, dropped his head into the curve of her shoulder as he reveled in her climax, surrendered himself to the hard contractions that gripped his shaft, made him shudder anew. Amazingly, another wrenching spasm was torn from his loins, liquid heat merging with his wife's final, glorious tremors.

Weak, utterly spent, they collapsed in each other's arms, both loathe to move, unable to speak.

Oliver felt his wife's tears, the gentle quaking of her body as she wept.

„Don't cry, Snow flame," he murmured into her disheveled cloud of hair. „Please, don't cry."

„I never knew such joy existed," Felicity whispered. „Thank you, Oliver. You've just given me the most wonderful gift."

A hard lump formed in Oliver's throat, a constriction too vast to overcome with words, even those he'd just uttered for the first time. Felicity believed his love to be a gift, and so it was. But it was she, not he, who had bestowed it, offering him unconditional love and faith and, the greatest miracle of all, teaching him to do the same.

Reflexively, Oliver's arms tightened around his wife, overwhelmed by the miracle that was his. More fervently than ever he reiterated his silent vow that nothing, no one, would ever hurt Felicity again.

Not her father's hatred.

Nor the exploits of the Green Arrow Bandit.

„Does Oliver seem well to you?" Felicity asked the vicar anxiously.

Her friend blinked in surprise, glancing across the school room to where Oliver stood amid the squealing children, watching Flash chases his tail in wide, vigorous circles.

„Why, yes, he seems fine. The children are enthralled, your reticent little fox cub has unconditionally befriended him. Why, even our difficult-to-please Miss Smith is smiling. I'd say your new husband's coming out has been an unequivocal success." The clergyman studied Felicity's furrowed brow. „What is disturbing you, Snowdrop?"

Felicity gave a tentative shrug. „I'm not certain. Oliver has been so preoccupied lately, as if something is troubling him, something he chooses not to discuss."

„I noticed no sign of that when I visited Starling last week."

„It's worsened since then."

„Have you questioned him?"

„Of course. He never quite answers. Nor does he deny being troubled. He only changes the subject as rapidly as possible." She inclined her head quizzically. „Would you speak with him, Vicar?"

„What exactly is it you'd like me to say?"

„Convince him that he doesn't need to keep his emotional quandaries to himself. Remind him that love involves more than tenderness and passion. It involves friendship and trust. He respects you, Vicar. If anyone can convince him to share himself, that someone is you."

A flash of insight flickered in the vicar's eyes. „You know precisely what's bothering your husband, don't you?"

„I have my suspicions, yes. But that matters not. In this case it is Oliver who must come to me, not I to him. Please, will you talk to him?"

„Very well, Snowdrop. As it happens, I have another matter I must discuss with Oliver today. I'll bring your concerns up immediately thereafter."

„Thank you." Felicity squeezed his arm. "I feel better already."

„Felicity?" Oliver called. „Would you like to tell the children of our proposed group project?"

She smiled, walking over to join her husband, pausing to scoop her exhausted pet from the floor. „I'd be delighted to."

„What project?" Tommy demanded.

„How would you all like to help us put a new roof on the school?"

„Us?" Roy's eyes nearly bugged out of his head. „But we don't know nothing about building."

„Neither do we." Felicity grinned. „But we've hired workmen who do. Tolerant, accommodating workmen who won't mind having us underfoot as they hammer and nail."

„Wow!"

„And that's not all." Felicity inclined her head proudly at her husband. „It appears we've amassed enough funds to arrange for a whole new schoolhouse to be built this spring. Isn't that wonderful, Miss Smith?"

„Hmm?" The schoolmistress was gazing at Oliver with a, foolish expression on her face. „Yes, lovely."

„Did you hear what Felicity said, Miss Smith?" Tommy demanded, staring at his teacher. „We're gonna have a new school soon. We have lots of money."

Miss Smith blinked, her attention finally captured. „A new school? How on earth…?"

„I bet the duke is paying for it," Roy guessed shrewdly.

„Are you _really_ a duke?" one of the older boys asked.

A corner of Oliver's mouth lifted. „It would seem so, yes."

„Hey, Felicity. That makes you a duchess," Tommy informed her.

„So it does," she agreed.

„Can we pat Flash now?" Evidently, Tommy's awe over Felicity's newly acquired title paled in comparison to his excitement over her pet.

„Only if you do so one at a time and only if I hold him. Flash is a bit wary around strangers. But the fact that he was showing off his tail-chasing skills is a good sign." She stroked the cub's silky head, murmuring softly to him until his ears flattened and he rubbed his chin and nose affectionately against Felicity's hair. „I think he's feeling receptive now," she announced. „Tommy, would you like to be first since it was your idea?"

The children were all enjoying their visit with Flash when the vicar approached Oliver. „May we talk privately for a few moments?" he murmured.

Nodding, Oliver detached himself from the group, confident that the children were too engrossed to notice his absence. „What's on your mind, Vicar?"

„As I'm sure your guards have advised you, I visited Rutland the day after I dined with you and Felicity."

„You spoke with Donna?"

„I did." The vicar sighed. „She was quite shocked at first, and more than a little dubious that a Parliamentary divorce was possible. But I explained everything you said, and she's willing to place her future in your hands, Oliver." The clergyman's expression softened, a reminiscent light dawning in his eyes. „Evidently, Donna has managed to retain the spark I recall from her youth. I thank God for that."

„I'll contact my solicitor at once, advise him to engage the finest barrister in all of England … and the boldest." Oliver was already making plans aloud. „Then, directly after the holiday party at Benchley, I'll leave for London and meet with them." A corner of his mouth lifted in wry amusement. „Poor Diggle. I've hurled his orderly life into chaos these past weeks. And now he'll have yet another unique legal proceeding to contend with on my behalf. Still, I rather suspect that, in his own way, he'll enjoy challenging the odds and emerging triumphant, which I fully intend he should do. This is one victory I can hardly wait to savor." Oliver met the vicar's gaze. Keen insight blended with gratitude. „Thank you."

„For what?"

„For speaking with Donna. I think we both know how much your encouragement influenced her decision."

A shout of laughter interrupted their conversation.

Turning his head, Oliver chuckled as he watched Felicity trying to unseat Flash from his position of safety atop her head. „Evidently, Flash has had enough human contact for one day."

„Your love for Felicity. You've accepted it, taken her into your heart."

Oliver's brows rose at the vicar's unexpected assessment.

„That shouldn't surprise you. Not after our chat last week."

„It doesn't. But perhaps you need to reinforce that acceptance, not for my sake, but for your own."

„Why?"

„Because love has many facets, some naturally and easily explored, others quite difficult. The beauty of the more resistant facets is that, once you've probed their depths, you have a lifetime to enjoy the brilliance you've discovered."

„To which resistant facets are you referring?"

Lance cleared his throat. „When two people care for each other it's only natural to want to share, not only your hearts and bodies, but your minds as well. Secrets, well meant or not, can do naught but drive a wedge between you. Remember Oliver, never confuse protection with exclusion. One nurtures, the other destroys."

„You've been talking to Felicity."

„She's worried about you."

„I know." Wearily, Oliver rubbed the back of his neck. „And she needn't be. I merely have an aspect of my past yet to resolve. Somehow I must do it, and soon."

„But must you do it alone? Felicity loves you deeply, and she is far stronger than you might imagine. Let her share your unrest, Oliver."

With a troubled sigh, Oliver replied, „I appreciate your advice, Vicar. I, better than anyone, know just how strong Felicity is. But this is not a matter of strength, it is a matter of safety. And Felicity's safety supersedes all else, even the trust that has grown between us." Oliver swallowed, his voice growing rough with emotion. „You see, Vicar, I've come to realize that my wife means more to me than anything: my past, my turmoil, even my own life."

„I understand." The clergyman nodded solemnly. „I also perceive that your current dilemma is not a minor one. Therefore, let me add one additional thought. Despite the short duration of our acquaintanceship, I hold you in the highest regard. I admire you and I respect you. In short, I consider you a friend. If ever you need a ready ear, I'd be pleased to provide one."

„That means a great deal." With a quick glance at Felicity and the children, Oliver added, „Unfortunately, this is one impasse I must conquer on my own."

„Then may God help you do so."

Soberly, Oliver rejoined his wife, wishing yet again that he could do as the vicar suggested: share his dilemma with Felicity and tell her of the decision he faced. He'd evaded the issue for weeks, buried his conflicting emotions in the sweet haven of Felicity's body. But he could avoid the matter no longer. A determination needed to be made.

Would there be a future for the Green Arrow Bandit?

His fists balling at his sides, Oliver was overcome by the usual clashing sentiments, and the nearly irresistible urge to share his anguish with his wife. Silently, he berated himself, reasserting his original vow not to involve Felicity in the reality of his dual identity. Were he ever unmasked, he would be tried, and possibly hanged, for his crimes. And if Felicity had any knowledge of his actions, she would be implicated as well. No. It was simply too dangerous.

His mind was made up. The intricate crossroads he now confronted were his and his alone to bear.

„Felicity, do you think the Green Arrow Bandit can find your new house as easily as he did your old one?" Inadvertently, Tommy exploded into the very territory Oliver sought to escape. „Because if he can't, you won't ever see him again."

„He's not gonna rob her again, stupid," Roy replied in an exasperated tone. „He never robs the same person twice. Besides, why would he rob her now? She's married to Oliver. And Oliver uses his money on us, not jewels and silver."

Felicity cast a sidelong glance at her husband. „I don't think it matters where the bandit strikes," she concluded hastily. „So long as he continues to benefit those who need it."

„Amen," the vicar agreed.

Oliver felt his guts twist, the enormity of his quandary resurging full force.

What was he going to do?

Evading Felicity's speculative gaze, Oliver stared out the window, reflecting back on the bandit's inception and the motives that had incited it.

First and most impelling had been his thirst for vengeance, his need to rectify all the injustice suffered by the poor and effected by the rich. That obsession had melded with the restlessness in his soul, a desperate need to make a difference, to give his wretched life some meaning, his hollow heart some purpose.

From that restless outrage, the Green Arrow Bandit had been born.

Then he'd thrived, fed by the wild exhilaration of his perilous crusades, the growing certainty that he could challenge the odds and win. Again and again, he'd reveled in the incredible thrill of conquest, especially in light of the fact that his opponents were the abhorred nobility.

That had been then.

This was now.

And now there was Felicity.

Felicity, who filled his heart with love, leaving no room for vengeance, obliterating all the restlessness of his soul. Along with her love came a peace far more profound than his reckless exhilaration, planting the seeds for a future he'd never envisioned as possible. Until now there had been nothing at stake. Suddenly there was everything.

Which left only his need for justice.

Well, wasn't that need being appeased as well, not only extensive, but legally and without compromising his safety, or Felicity's?

After all, as the newly instated Duke of Starling, he had all the money he needed. With every bank draft he wrote, every donation he made, wasn't he effecting the very justice he sought by helping the helpless, ensuring a better life for the poor and hungry?

The answer was an unequivocal yes.

So what was holding him back? Why didn't he just relegate the Green Arrow Bandit to the annals of history? Because there was one nagging reality that wouldn't be silenced.

I _have a message for you_. Oliver could still see Felicity's face, hear her words the night she'd faced the bandit in her bed chamber. _The children in the village school asked that, should you and I ever meet, I make certain you know you're their hero._ _Which, given the vast potential of their loving hearts, is a most glowing tribute._

Tommy, Roy, Thea, and all the other Tommys and Roys believed in him, relied on the valiant forays of the Green Arrow Bandit.

How could he forget the children? He, who knew firsthand what it was like to have no one to rely upon, nothing to believe in. How could he take away the only person who'd ever offered them constancy and hope?

He couldn't.

Oliver closed his eyes, a muscle working in his jaw.

„Don't be angry," Felicity said softly.

He blinked, stared dazedly at her. „What?"

„Don't be angry. They're only children. In their minds, the bandit is a hero."

Vaguely, Oliver realized Felicity had interpreted his brooding silence as resurrected jealousy. „I'm not angry."

She stroked his jaw. „I love you."

Seizing her wrist, Oliver pressed his lips fiercely to her palm. „I know. And I'm not angry." He glanced about, realizing Miss Smith had resettled the children for their studies and the vicar was waiting tactfully at the door. „Evidently, I was engrossed in my thoughts."

„So it would seem." Felicity situated Flash in the crook of her arm, thoughtfully surveying her husband's troubled expression. „Shall we go?"

Oliver nodded, staring beyond his wife to where the children were bent over their slates. „Yes," he agreed in a hollow tone. „We've done all we can for today."

„Were I not escorting the most beautiful woman in the room, I would abandon this ridiculous ball in an instant," Oliver muttered in Felicity's ear.

Felicity's lips twitched as her husband whirled her about Benchley's crowded ballroom. „I don't know whether to be flattered or offended."

„Neither. Both statements are true. I loathe these pretentious gatherings, and you are so exquisite I very nearly locked our guest room door and rapidly free you of the gown you so painstakingly donned."

This time Felicity couldn't suppress her laughter. „You shock me, Your Grace."

„Somehow I doubt that," Oliver retorted dryly. „You know me too well."

„Yes, I do." She smiled up at him. „And I know you came to Benchley for my sake. Thank you." She gazed around at the festive holiday decorations. „I normally dislike these parties as much as you do. But it's almost Christmas. And for the first time in my life I truly know what Christmas spirit means. I'm so happy. Perhaps it sounds foolish, but I somehow wanted to glory in that joy, to share it with the world, just this once."

Oliver brought her gloved hand to his lips. „It doesn't sound foolish. And the glow on your cheeks makes the whole disagreeable event worthwhile."

„All of it? Even the two-hour tour Lord Benchley insisted on conducting to demonstrate his latest renovations?" Felicity teased.

Oliver rolled his eyes. „The pompous ass. As if he's the first man to effectively use a fireplace to heat his bed chamber."

„Also the first to install seven water closets and three bathrooms in the main house, all with gilded washstands, basins, and ewers and all for only himself and Lady Benchley," Felicity added with a sad shake of her head. „Such a waste."

„Try telling that to the viscount. Or his insipid wife, for that matter. Why, the jewelry she's wearing tonight could feed an entire village for a year."

„I didn't notice." Felicity frowned, gazing into the hall where the viscountess was loudly berating an obviously terrified serving girl. „But I can't bear the cruel manner in which she treats her servants. That poor child out there is probably still in her teens. Not to mention that the tray she's carrying weighs more than she does."

Oliver spun Felicity about so he could view the scene firsthand. What he saw was a gaunt, terrified young girl that was nodding vigorously as she endured the viscountess's tirade.

„Now get to the kitchen and fetch a tray of champagne for the guests," the noblewoman ordered. „And no don't drag your feet! Or you shan't receive a penny of the added wages you've begged me for."

„Yes, ma'am." Knees trembling, the girl turned on her heel and bolted, juggling piles of soiled dishes as she ran.

„That witch," Felicity murmured. „Has she not a shred of compassion?"

„Evidently not."

„So Starling." The Viscount Benchley chose that moment to approach them. „How are you enjoying your first official ball as a member of the peerage?"

Oliver bit back his candid retort. „I'm enjoying this rare opportunity to dance with my wife," he said instead.

„I don't blame you." Benchley's lecherous gaze swept Felicity from head to toe. „Your bride is breathtaking. It is hard to believe she is Merlyn's young daughter."

„I've grown up, my lord," Felicity said, feeling the impending storm that emanated from her husband. „I'm a married woman now."

„So you are." He stroked the ends of his mustache. „How is your father? Has he recovered from that notorious bandit's invasion?"

„Father is quite resilient. He's very much himself again."

„I'm glad to hear that." Benchley displayed the ballroom with a grand sweep of his arm. „Myself, I have nothing to fear from that bandit scoundrel. My house is impenetrable. I've seen to that. Why every lock has been personally installed by the finest locksmiths in England, the grounds protected by the keenest guards to be found anywhere." He laughed harshly. "I'd like to see that rogue just try to gain entry to Benchley. He would quickly learn the meaning of the word defeat. Why, the very thought of him robbing reputable people and turning our money over to worthless urchins and filthy gutter rats who will do nothing but squander the funds on liquor and women." Hastily, he broke off. „Forgive me, Felicity. I did not mean to go on so in your presence." He bowed. „Continue to enjoy your evening."

Oliver's jaw was so tightly clenched, Felicity feared it might snap. She felt him make an inadvertent move in the viscount's direction. „Oliver, don't. He isn't worth it. He's a witless, arrogant fool."

„We're leaving."

Her expression soft with compassion, Felicity nodded. „Very well. I, too, have had enough."

„Coming here was a mistake. I don't belong here. I don't want to belong here."

„Neither of us does," Felicity replied, covering Oliver's hand with her own. „We belong to each other." Slowly, she extricated herself from his hold. „I apologize for insisting we attend. It was stupid of me to suppose we could infuse joy into the hearts of the heartless. I'll feign a headache. Then we can pack. We'll be home before dawn."

„Snow flame." Despite his fury, Oliver felt a twinge of remorse. „I never want to shatter your dreams."

Felicity smiled. „You couldn't. You are my dreams. I'll merely alter my plans and glory in the Christmas spirit of Starling, which is where I'm the happiest anyway, rather than at some vapid party. And rather than display my exuberance in front of the world who, for the most part, are thoroughly unworthy, I'll share my joy with the worthiest man I know, my husband."

Gathering up her skirts, she made her way from the ballroom, warmed by the love she'd seen darken her husband's blue eyes. She truly was the luckiest woman on earth.

A vicious growl and a loud crash transformed Felicity's golden haze into ugly reality. Halting in her tracks, she saw the same young serving girl, this time poised just outside the pantry, a pile of broken glass swimming in spilled champagne at her feet. Her hands were pressed to her mouth, and, at first, Felicity assumed she was distressed over the accident. An instant later, she realized otherwise, simultaneously identifying the source of the growl she'd just heard.

A black dog with bared teeth was advancing on the maid, crouched low to the ground as if to pounce. Lunging forward, he seized the hem of her gown, tearing it between his teeth until she shrieked with fear.

„You stupid chit!"

The viscountess emerged from an anteroom at that moment, seeing naught but the mess in her hallway and the embarrassment of the accompanying din. „See what you've done, you senseless dolt! I knew I shouldn't have succumbed to your pleas to keep you on. I should have discharged you long ago. You're not only frail and simple, you're clumsy and inept as well."

The dog, hearing his mistress's infuriated tone, wasted no time, but relinquished his jaw-full of material and bolted into the pantry.

„But, ma'am ..." The girl made a futile gesture toward the deserted pantry door, realizing even as she did so that it was too late. The culprit was gone. With utter resignation, her arms fell to her sides and she awaited her punishment.

So did Felicity, hovering, unseen, in a small alcove down the hall, holding her breath for the punishment she anticipated.

It was far worse than she feared.

„Pack your things at once. I want you off my estate this instant."

The girl's head came up. „Off the estate? But, my lady ..."

„Not another word. My mind is made up." The viscountess stepped distastefully around the servant and the glittering puddle at her feet. „I'm going to summon a footman so he can arrange to have this mess cleaned up. By the time I return, I expect you to be gone."

Felicity could see the girl's fingers nervously rubbing the folds of her gown.

„What about my wages, ma'am?" She seemed to drag the question from some reluctant place deep inside her.

„Your wages?" The viscountess drew herself up. „Not only will I not pay you, I have half a mind to strike you. You're fortunate that I'm a lady and therefore will restrain myself."

„I worked a full week, Lady Benchley."

Courageously, the maid maintained her stance, but her voice quavered, and Felicity ached for her humiliation.

„The meals you were fed were lavish compensation for your pathetic attempts at work. Now be gone before I have you thrown from my home." Sweeping up her skirts, Lady Benchley marched off.

For a long moment the girl did nothing, merely stood, unmoving, where she was. She was too far off for Felicity to discern her expression, but her trembling shoulders left little doubt she was crying.

An instant later she recovered, dashing tears from her cheeks as she walked toward the servants quarters.

Without hesitation, Felicity went after her, propelled by a myriad of emotions too vast to contain.

Halfway down the corridor, the girl turned, disappearing into one of the tiny bed chambers.

Without thinking, Felicity followed. „Are you all right?" she blurted.

The maid spun to face her, her eyes wide with shock. „Who are you?"

Felicity didn't answer. She couldn't. All she could do was stare, a chill encasing her heart as she confronted the agonizing specter of her past. Those eyes … dark, fathomless, intense. They had haunted her for twelve years, their hollow futility tearing at her heart.

„Who are you?" the girl repeated, backing away.

Her throat tight with remembered pain, Felicity tried to find the words to say and the voice with which to say them. Perhaps she would have succeeded, had her gaze not chosen that moment to fall upon the unadorned nightstand beside the girl's bed.

After which all attempts at speech were forgotten.

There, its unblinking stare as vivid as it had been twelve years past, was the tattered, indelible memory of Felicity's childhood.

The doll from the House of Eternal Hope.


	19. Chapter 18

**Chapter 18**

„Ma'am, please. Who are you? Why are you here?"

Felicity heard the question through a paralyzed haze. Forcing herself to respond, she dragged her mind back from the fateful day that had forever changed her life.

„My name is Felicity Dearden." Her voice sounded odd, strained to her own ears. „I ..." She wet her lips. „I saw the disgraceful way Lady Benchley treated you. Forgive me, but I had to make certain you were all right."

The girl lowered her lashes, turning away to begin gathering her belongings. „I'm accustomed to such treatment. It's only that I need this job badly, now that ..." Her mouth snapped shut. „It was very kind of you to check on me, ma'am. But I assure you, I'm fine." She folded two worn frocks, then collected her brush and comb. „I'd best take my leave."

„Where will you go?"

That hollow futility flashed in the girl's eyes. „I haven't given it any thought. In truth," she added in a voice so tiny it was barely audible. „I'm not sure it matters."

Felicity blocked her path. „It matters to me." She rushed on, desperate to intercede in a way she'd never before been allowed. „What is your name"

„Sarah."

„And your surname?"

„Cooke." The maid took up her bag, surveying Felicity with wary candor. „Ma'am, I don't mean to sound rude, but why would you care about my name? Or about me, for that matter?"

Sarah. At last. A name to put to the face. The identity of the girl, until now unknown, had, at last, been revealed.

Perhaps the fates are offering me another chance, Felicity mused, the wondrous prospect infusing her heart with joy and hope. Twelve years before she'd been her father's prisoner, a child herself, unable to reach out to the little girl who'd stared with terrified mistrust, clutched her doll as if it were her very lifeline.

Now, Felicity was free.

With the help of fate … and Oliver … Sarah would be, too.

„It is not the first time we've met," Felicity began carefully, praying for the right words, knowing she'd have but this one opportunity to extend her hand.

Sarah inclined her head. „You must be mistaken. You're a lady. I'm a maid. Besides, I've only been at Benchley for two months."

„And before that?"

„Before that I worked in a tavern. I doubt you'd know it by name. The east end of London is hardly an area you'd frequent."

„Sarah," Felicity closed the door, leaning back against it. „We haven't much time, so I'll be blunt. My husband is the Duke of Starling."

An intrigued spark of recognition flashed in Sarah's eyes.

„I see you've heard some of the gossip," Felicity responded. „Residing with Lord and Lady Benchley, I rather assumed you had. So you know Oliver's title is newly acquired."

„I've heard only that he was a wealthy commoner and now he's a wealthier duke," Sarah replied carefully.

„A commoner of questionable parentage," Felicity clarified.

„Yes."

„His childhood was a nightmare, Sarah. A living hell that no one in that ballroom could possibly understand."

„Why are you telling this to me?"

„Because you _would_ understand."

„I? Why? Because we both grew up without benefit of title or wealth?"

„No. Because you both grew up in the House of Eternal Hope."

Silence.

Slowly, Sarah sank down on the bed, pressing her shaking hands to her face. „How did you know that?" she whispered.

„Because that was where you and I met. A dozen years ago." Felicity inhaled sharply. „My father is an unfeeling man who believes all those born without should be cast into the streets, and all who oppose that course of action should be beaten into submission. Sadly for me, I wasn't, then and now. When I was eight, he decided to alter my convictions by forcing me to witness the horrors of a workhouse firsthand. The workhouse he selected was the House of Eternal Hope." A painful pause. „I first saw you pumping water in the garden, then again when I was leaving. I picked up your doll." Felicity gestured toward the nightstand and the only possession Sarah had yet to pack. „Father flung her aside. You rescued her ..." Felicity broke off, tears clogging her throat. „I don't expect you to remember. But I never forgot."

Sarah's face was pale, her lips quivering with emotion. „I don't recognize your face. But the incident? _That_ I remember. How could I not? I'd never seen anyone quite like you before, except in my dreams. I remember thinking how elegantly you were dressed, how beautiful you were … and how fortunate."

„Fortunate," Felicity repeated with hushed irony. „Then, no. But now? Yes, very. My luck has changed dramatically thanks to Oliver. He's given me joy, hope, a future." She lay a tentative palm on Sarah's shoulder. „And, if you'll allow us, we can do the same for you."

„All because of one episode from your childhood?"

„An episode that's haunted me since I was eight. Not to mention the pleasure it would bring my husband to help provide you with a better life."

„How?" Sarah asked skeptically.

„We were just about to make our excuses and leave Benchley. Come to Starling with us."

„Are you offering me a job?"

„If you'd like one."

„As you just witnessed, I'm not terribly strong. I was discharged from the tavern for the same reason. Especially now that ..." Again, she broke off.

„Starling is enormous. I'm certain we can find something less taxing for you than carrying heavy trays." More than anything, Felicity wanted to insist that Sarah comes to their home, not as an employee, but as a guest. Yet, instinct warned her that Sarah's pride would never permit her to accept what she would doubtless view as charity.

Frantically, Felicity searched her mind for an answer, a logical, physically undemanding position that Sarah might fill.

„You speak exceptionally well," she blurted.

A slight smile played about Sarah's lips. „For a street urchin, you mean."

„For someone who never had the benefit of proper schooling."

„I taught myself. I read every book I could lay my hands on, philosophy, poetry, novels, everything."

„As did Oliver. Unfortunately, few people possess your aptitude, or your initiative." As Felicity spoke, the idea took hold, erupting full force in her mind. „Sarah, how would you feel about giving lessons?"

„Lessons?"

„Yes. English lessons at Starling. I don't know why I didn't think of it immediately."

„I'm not following you, ma'am."

„Sarah," Felicity seized her hands. „Starling has been asleep for many years. I'm only beginning to awaken it. And I need your help. We have scores of servants and, thanks to Oliver's painstaking arrangements, hundreds of tenants. Consequently, there are hosts of wonderful children now living at Starling, children who could benefit from your knowledge and experience without ever having to leave the estate."

„Isn't there a village schoolhouse?"

„Yes. But just a few number of children are able to attend. Their parents simply cannot spare them from their chores. This way, they wouldn't have to. We could conduct evening classes, or pre-dawn classes, whatever was necessary. And we could vary the studies, so the five-year-olds wouldn't be expected to learn at the same pace as the thirteen-year-olds."

„But I'm not qualified to teach," Sarah broke in to protest.

„I beg to differ with you," Felicity countered. „You're inordinately qualified. You can offer these children not only book learning, but youth and enthusiasm. And most of all, hope … the living proof that they can aspire to more and succeed." Pleasure glowed in Felicity's eyes. „Think about it, Sarah. Think about the difference you can make."

Sarah studied Felicity's face. „You're serious about this, aren't you?"

„Extremely serious. Will you consider my offer?"

Another slight smile. „Hadn't you better discuss it with the duke first? Perhaps he won't share your enthusiasm."

„I have no worry on that score." Felicity inclined her head quizzically. „Your answer?"

„My answer?" Sarah echoed the question in utter amazement. „Forgive my impertinence, ma'am, but you ask as if I had somewhere else to go."

„You have. If you don't feel suited to this position, or if, after seeing Starling, you believe it to be too overwhelming to call your home, then Oliver and I will make certain you find an agreeable living arrangement elsewhere."

„Just like that?"

„Just like that."

Sarah swallowed past the lump in her throat. „I don't know how to thank you."

„I don't want your thanks. I want your company. Will you travel to Starling with us?"

For the briefest of instants, Sarah appeared torn, struggling with some internal conflict. At length, she nodded. „With pleasure, ma'am."

„Wonderful!" Felicity beamed. „I need a few minutes to pack. Then, we can be on our way." Half turning, her gaze fell on the nightstand, and she smiled, tenderly picking up the ragged doll. „I've spent a dozen years wondering … what is her name?"

A wistful look. „Tilda. Actually, Matilda. It was my mother's name."

„Tilda," Felicity repeated softly. „That is a lovely name."

„Mama gave her to me the morning she left me on the workhouse steps." Sarah's voice broke. „It was the last time I saw her. Her body was found the next day, floating in the Thames."

Felicity hugged Sarah fiercely, vowing then and there to ensure this frail yet courageous girl nothing but happiness from then on. „Come," she managed. „Let's collect my things. We can talk while we pack. I can already envision precisely which of Starling's bed chambers will be yours. It has a lovely view of the gardens and a wide ledge of the window just perfect for Tilda to sit and look out ..."

„Wait." Abruptly, Sarah stilled Felicity with her hand. „I can't do this to you, not when you've shown me more kindness than I've ever known in my life." She lowered her lashes to hide the pain her refusal evoked. „I can't go with you, Your Grace. I want to … more than you can ever imagine … but I can't."

„Why?" Felicity was taken aback by the rapid turnabout. „Why can't you go?"

Silence.

„You can trust me, Sarah," Felicity murmured. „Tell me what this is all about."

„I'm with child." It was an admission of fact, not shame or remorse. „That's the reason I've been constantly weak and lightheaded. It's also why I can't accept your offer, no matter how much I might want to. To burden you with my condition, and eventually my child, would be dishonest and unfair to you, to the duke, and to the children I'd be instructing."

„The baby's father?"

„Isn't interested in acquiring a wife or a child," Sarah finished. With proud defiance, she raised her chin. „I'd be lying if I said James hadn't made that fact clear from the start. He did. But it changed nothing. Not my love for him, nor my aching need to have his child. I want this babe, Your Grace, want it more than anything on earth. And not only because of James, but because I long for the chance to give my child what I never had: a mother who loves him enough to never leave him." Sarah lay a protective palm over her still flat abdomen. „Can you understand that?"

„Yes. Far better than you think." Felicity's cheeks were damp with tears. „And I greatly appreciate your candor. Now, are you ready to go?"

Sarah gaped. „You still want me?"

„More than ever," Felicity replied fervently. „Anyone who can speak of children with such tenderness and commitment is the ideal candidate to teach them. Moreover, you'll need proper care for yourself and your babe. We'll see that you get it. So," Felicity swung open the door and scooped up Sarah's bag, „if that's all settled, we're off to Starling."

Oliver was deep in thought as he paced before the waiting carriage. He'd reached his breaking point tonight, thanks to Benchley's disdainful remarks and arrogant boast. No longer could he dismiss the inner voice that urged him to act.

Conflicting emotions or not, the Green Arrow Bandit would strike.

Instinctively, Oliver began plotting out the details.

He had nearly completed his strategy when Felicity emerged from the manor thirty minutes later, accompanied by the serving girl Lady Benchley had been chastising earlier.

„Would you please load this as well?" Felicity paused to ask the footman, handing him the maid's suitcase.

„Of course, Your Grace."

Felicity turned to her husband, her gaze saying far more than her words. „Oliver, this is Sarah Cooke. She's just accepted a position at Starling that will solve all our problems concerning the children. In fact, as luck would have it, she's able to travel home with us right now. Sarah, my husband, Oliver Dearden." A twinkle. „The notorious Duke of Starling."

„Your Grace." Sarah curtsied.

„We're delighted to welcome you, Sarah." Blindly, Oliver followed his wife's lead. „Notorious?" he added with a grin.

„Indeed." Felicity leaned conspiratorially forward. „Evidently, your colorful rise in the ranks of the nobility has become quite a topic of conversation among members of the _ton_."

„I'm flattered." Oliver wasn't fooled by his wife's purposeful banter. Searching her face, he read her unspoken plea and answered it. „I've made our excuses." He opened the carriage door, beckoning to both ladies. „Shall we go?"

The carriage made its way through Benchley's iron gates. With keen insight, Oliver watched Sarah knotting her hands in the folds of her dress, nervously awaiting Felicity's explanation.

Felicity stalled only until they'd reached the main road. Then, as the estate disappeared from view, she turned to Sarah, frowning as she saw the girl's obvious trepidation.

„There's no reason to be apprehensive. Your old life is over. Let's embrace your new one." Felicity's meaningful glance flickered briefly over Oliver before returning to Sarah. „Tomorrow morning we'll begin planning a schedule of lessons for all of Starling's children. We'll consult their parents, of course, and devise time schedules that won't conflict with their chores. Why, with a little effort, you can begin teaching by next week."

Oliver gave Felicity an almost imperceptible nod of understanding.

Chewing her lip, Sarah addressed Oliver. „Sir, I think you should know I have no prior experience. I'm not qualified for this position."

A twinge of amusement lit his eyes. „Clearly, my wife thinks otherwise. And, since I've discovered her instincts to be flawless, I'll make note of your candid admission, then dismiss it."

„I … Thank you, sir."

„You're quite welcome."

Confident that Felicity would explain the situation more fully once they'd arrived home, Oliver resumed his mental arrangements. Shifting restlessly, he glanced at his timepiece. „I hope you ladies don't object. I've asked our driver to make a brief stop."

„Of course not," Felicity assured him, although her brows rose in surprise. „Where are we stopping?"

„Wellingborough." Oliver knew his wife well enough to know she wasn't fooled by his casual demeanor or light tone. Just as she'd perceived his inner conflict, she sensed his current unrest. And he could do nothing to assuage her worry, especially not in light of the decision he'd just made. „I just need to collect some business materials for my meeting in London next week. It shouldn't take more than a few minutes. Wellingborough is on our way."

„By all means." Felicity laced her fingers together. „Sarah and I will use that time to get better acquainted."

Silence fell, lingered until the carriage rolled to a stop before Oliver's Wellingborough home.

„I'll be back straight away," he assured them, alighting swiftly and striding up the walk.

The house was dark, and Oliverlit a single candle to illuminate the hallway. Strange how coldly unoccupied the place seemed, he mused, glancing up and down the shadowed walls. Not long ago it had been his home. Now it was only a house.

His home was with Felicity.

He acted quickly, squatting to remove the appropriate floor plank, reaching beneath to extract the small object he'd carefully secreted on the morning following his wedding while his bride was still blissfully asleep.

The emerald from the Earl of Gaynor's Mansfield estate.

Slipping the stone into his pocket, Oliver reached beneath the floorboard again, extracting the mask he wore on his excursions as the Green Arrow Bandit. Pocketing that as well, he replaced the slate, scanning the floor to make certain he'd left no evidence of his hiding place. Then he stood, pausing only to gather up some unneeded papers to support his fabricated excuse for stopping by. Extinguishing the candle, he left.

Sleep was not forthcoming.

Tossing off his brandy, Oliver stared out the sitting room window, wishing Felicity hadn't rushed off to help Sarah settle in. He needed her tonight, needed the gentle touch of her body, the healing warmth of her love.

Perhaps it was better this way.

He refilled his glass, frowning as he realized how little he could tell Felicity about what was transpiring inside him. He refused to amend his decision to protect her from the criminal portion of his life. And yet, selfishly, he wanted her still, if only to wrap herself around him, whisper that she loved him.

Dawn's first rosy glow embraced the horizon, and Oliver massaged his aching temples, finalizing his strategy. He would send a missive to Diggle, arranging a meeting for tomorrow between the two of them and the barrister Diggle had selected to handle the marchioness's impending divorce. That would serve as an excuse to go to London. If he committed the burglary tonight, then rode directly to Town, he could stop at Thompson's store and the Faithful Heart workhouse in London's East End, all before dawn.

In which case, he had only today.

Today to advise Felicity of his trip and to get enough rest so his senses would be whip-taut when he broke into that arrogant son of a bitch Benchley's impenetrable estate.

Wearily, Oliver climbed the stairs to bed.

His room was still dark, with only a trickle of light finding its way beneath the closed curtains. He tossed his robe aside and turned to climb into bed.

Felicity.

His beautiful wife lay on the rumpled sheets, her pristine nightgown covering her from neck to toe, her hair a golden waterfall upon his pillow. Evidently when she'd finished settling Sarah in her new chamber, she'd come to his room rather than her own.

Strangely touched, Oliver smiled at the exquisite vision she made, filled with a fierce sense of pride that she belonged to him.

„Snow flame?" He slid in beside her, gathering her soft, warm body in his arms.

„Oliver." She sounded sleepy, disoriented, and more erotic than he could bear.

„I'm here." He shrugged her out of her nightgown, smoothing his hands over the satin of her skin.

„We have to talk."

„Later." He covered her mouth with his. „We'll discuss our new employee later."

„Not Sarah," Felicity protested, pushing at his shoulders with insistent hands. „About ..."

„Later," Oliver whispered fervently, moving against his wife until her nipples hardened against his chest.

„Oliver." Briefly, Felicity shook her head, fighting the sensual spell he was purposely weaving about her senses. „I ..."

„Feel like heaven," he finished for her, his lips burning a path to her breasts. „Taste like heaven," he added huskily, drawing one sensitized peak into his mouth.

Felicity relented in a rush, twining her arms about Oliver's neck and murmuring his name in that hushed, seductive way that made his blood heat and his body harden.

„I need you, Snow flame. I need you so bloody much." Oliver's hands shook as he parted her legs, absorbing the tiny quivers of her inner thighs with his fingertips. „Tell me you love me."

„I love you, Oliver," she said in a breathy whisper.

„Keep saying it." He entered her with his fingers, reveling in her wetness, intensifying it with each fiery caress.

„I love you." She arched against his palm, her hips rising and falling in silent invitation.

„Now say it as I go into you." He moved up and over her, his expression as harsh as his command. „Please, Snow flame, I need to know."

Felicity pressed her fingers to his lips to silence him. Slowly, she slid her hand down the length of his body until it closed around his rigid shaft. „I love you, Oliver," she breathed reverently, lifting her flushed face to meet his gaze, staring deep into his eyes as she guided him into her. „Forever and always, I love you."

He climaxed instantly. Her words, the look on her face, the hot, tight feel of her were more than he could bear. Helplessly, he poured himself into her, shuddering with each pulsing surge of his release.

Something inside him refused to touch heaven alone, desperately wanted Felicity with him. Slipping his hand between their bodies, he found her, stroked the velvety flesh that cried out for his touch, responded instantly to it.

Felicity unraveled at once, sobbing Oliver's name as she dissolved into hard, gripping spasms, clutching him inside and out as if to never let him go.

Oliver never intended to go. „I love you," he rasped, dragging great gulps of air into his lungs. „Christ, how I love you."

He closed his eyes, the reality of his feelings for Felicity prompting talons of doubt to claw at his gut. Should he tell her the truth?

There had always been honesty between them. Did he owe it to her to tell her the truth? Or was it his responsibility to protect her from it?

And most of all, did he owe it to her … to them … to abandon the bandit's cause, children or not?

His hands balled into fists, digging deep into the pillow. For a man who always knew just what to do, he was totally at sea. What the hell was his answer?

Felicity's even breathing told Oliver she'd fallen asleep. He leaned up on his elbows, brushing strands of hair from her face and kissing her lightly before he eased himself from her breathtaking warmth.

He jerked on his robe, prowling the room like a caged tiger seeking escape, knowing all the while this was one impasse that was truly insurmountable.

Crossing over to his nightstand, Oliver slid open the drawer, automatically reaching for the emerald he'd placed there earlier, as if by holding the gem he could find the answers he sought.

It was gone.

For a full minute Oliver stared blankly at the empty niche where the stone had been. Then he acted, yanking out the contents of the drawer one by one, tossing them haphazardly about the room as he groped in every emptied space, every vacant corner. Nothing.

Frantically, he searched his mind for an explanation.

„It's with your cravats."

Oliver pivoted about, staring at his wife.

Felicity sat up, pointing helpfully at Oliver's double chest of drawers. „In there. Oh, I realized your hiding place was only temporary. Still, I remember how easily you found my smelling salts and my journal. The nightstand drawer is far too risky, even for a few hours. So I moved the emerald. You don't need to panic. It's quite safe."

„You ..." Oliver's mouth opened and closed several times. „How did you find it?" he asked inanely.

„I was on my way in to speak with you. I saw you place the jewel in the nightstand, then go downstairs to brood. I knew I had plenty of time to find a more suitable hiding spot, since I fully intended to wait here for you, even if it took all night." She sighed. „Heaven knows, I've waited too long already; borne your suffering as long as I could. Evidently, you were never going to come to me. My only choice, therefore, was to go to you."

In stunned silence, Oliver crossed the room to his double chest, yanking open the drawer that housed his cravats.

„Beneath the folded pile in the back," Felicity instructed.

An instant later his hand emerged, clasping the Gaynors emerald.

He turned the brilliant gem over and over in his palms, watching its facets shoot prisms of light through the semi-darkened room.

„You've known?"

„Yes."

„How long?" he asked, his tone deadly quiet. „Damn it. How long have you known?"

„Since the night you robbed Merlyn Manor."

„Since the ..." He turned, his expression utterly incredulous. „I was dressed completely in green, from my boots to my hood, with a mask that covered my entire face. I even disguised my voice."

Felicity smiled. „No one else moves like you, Oliver. You're a panther, carefully restrained yet ready to strike; agile, dangerous, exhilarating charismatic. You affect me as no other man ever has or ever will. And your eyes … not only the unique blue hue, but their intensity, even when lit by a single candle. „It is you who claim my instincts are flawless. How could you imagine I wouldn't know you?"

He shook his head in amazement. „And all this time ... When I found that journal, vented my jealousy like a madman, you said nothing, let me go on and on."

„I was waiting for _you_ to tell _me_." Felicity propped her chin on her knees, inclining her head quizzically. „When did you finally intend to do that?"

Oliver's fingers clutched the emerald so tightly his knuckles turned white. „Today. Tonight. Never. I don't know." He strode over to the bed, sitting down beside her.

„In light of the numerous opportunities I've given you, the answer is clearly: never." Felicity drew a shaky breath, a pained look crossing her face. „Why Oliver? Why would you choose not to tell me? You love me. Despite your past, I believed you trusted me as well."

„I do trust you." Oliver caught her chin, lifted it to meet his gaze. „Have you any idea how much I wanted to share this with you?"

„Then why didn't you?"

„Felicity, what I do is illegal. I could get hung for it and so could you, if the authorities ever suspected you aid me in any way." His thumb stroked her lips. „I swore to keep you safe. I intend to keep that vow."

„What about you?"

„What about me?"

„I want you safe as well." Felicity leaned forward, her expression earnest as she gripped Oliver's shoulders. „I love you. The thought of losing you ..." Her lips trembled. „I couldn't bear it."

„Precisely my dilemma." A muscle worked in his jaw. „Until you, Snow flame, I had nothing to lose, nothing to live for. Now I have both. But the children. You told me yourself I was their hero. Who else do they have? Who else can they believe in?"

„There are other ways."

„Don't you think I know that?" Oliver came to his feet, raking his fingers through his hair. „And I'd almost reconciled myself to helping solely through those other ways."

„Almost," Felicity repeated woodenly. „Until Viscount Benchley's offensive behavior altered your decision."

Their gazes locked.

„Yes. Until Benchley spoke of the poor as if they were dirt."

„Was it that? Or was it the challenge he inadvertently issued by boasting his manor was impenetrable."

Oliver didn't look away. „You know me well."

„Extraordinarily well. So which was the deciding factor, the cruelty or the pomposity?"

„The combination."

Felicity swallowed, fear and resignation shadowing her eyes. „When?" she whispered. „When do you plan to invade Benchley?"

„Tonight."

„Tonight? But there is a houseful of guests who have yet to depart from the Christmas party."

„True. Which only serves to heighten the challenge." Oliver ached at the broken look on Felicity's face. „Snow flame, I don't expect you to understand."

„Then make me understand."

Oliver started. „How?"

„I care about those children as much as you do." Felicity raised her chin a notch. „And I loathe everything my father and Lord Benchley represent, just as you do. So I understand your anger, as well as your compassion. What I don't understand is your excitement; the way you thrill to the challenge."

„That's not something I can explain."

„Meaning?"

„Take me with you..."

„What?"

A spark kindled Felicity's eyes. „Take me to Benchley. Let me be the The Green Arrow's accomplice."


	20. Chapter 19

**Chapter 19**

„Have you lost your mind?" Oliver raged.

„Not at all. You've enumerated your reasons. Now let me witness them first hand."

„Felicity." He strove for a filament of control. „You're not thinking clearly. This is not some romp through the woods. Nor is it like the glorified tributes you collect from the _Times_. It's ..."

„Cunning, skill, and instinct," Felicity finished for him. „Both cunning and skill I've learned from you. As for instinct, you yourself have repeatedly hailed mine as incomparable." She shot him a quick, mischievous grin, her cheeks tinged with excitement. „You've also heralded me as having magnificent, though hidden, spirit, fire, and passion. Clearly, that is the case, although I believe those traits have come out of hiding these past weeks."

Oliver sucked in his breath and stared, for the first time seeing the total transformation that their marriage had effected on his wife. He'd been so engrossed in his own metamorphosis that he'd failed to realize the full extent of Felicity's.

Somewhere during the past six weeks, his delicate little caterpillar had become a butterfly.

„Oliver?" Felicity rose and went to him, oblivious to her nakedness. „I know I can do this. I want to do this. Let me."

Warring emotions tore at Oliver's heart, stunning him by their very existence. The reluctance, the protectiveness were the familiar sentiments, the ones that had spawned his decision to keep Felicity from the truth. But the equally powerful unfamiliar longings? The stirring excitement evoked by envisioning Felicity by his side, the compelling need to share with her the exhilaration of the robbery and its inspiring results … those he'd never anticipated feeling.

But feel them he did.

Instantly, Felicity sensed his indecision. „I'll wear my deep purple gown. The color is so dark it will be indiscernible by night. I'll hide my hair, pull a hooded mask over my head. Only my slight build will enable people to tell us apart."

Her final claim made Oliver chuckle, his gaze raking her very feminine, very naked figure. „You won't win on that argument, sweetheart. I assure you, people would have no trouble differentiating us."

Felicity flushed. „I'll be clothed. And I'll wear a full, black cape. Besides, you'll be less conspicuous with me along. If need be we can remove our masks and appear to be merely two of Benchley's house guests."

A glint of intrigued awareness flared in Oliver's eyes, then dissipated along with his smile. „Snow flame." He gathered her close in his arms. „Have you any idea how precious you are to me?"

„Then do this for me," she urged softly, pressing her lips to his chest. „Take me with you. Let me feel what you do when you are best a callous scoundrel like Benchley. Share your joy when workhouse children reap the benefits of your skill. Oliver," she raised her head, gazed up at him, „please."

„I must be insane," he muttered, gathering handfuls of her hair.

Triumph glowed in Felicity's eyes. „Thank you," she whispered.

„Now remember. Once we leave the carriage in that grove of trees outside the gates ..."

„I remember," Felicity interrupted, gripping her mask in her lap as the horses commenced their final mile to Benchley. With a shiver of excitement, she wrapped her cape more tightly about her. „We go by foot. We don't speak a word. You have the tools concealed in your pocket, and the pouch tucked inside the lining of your coat. We make our way around back, far from the sleeping quarters of the family, guests, and servants. You select the proper window … most likely at the rear of the conservatory … then cut your way inside. After which, you'll pull me through. We remove our shoes and leave them there. We move from the conservatory directly to the pantry, then to the library and the study. Last, we climb the stairs to the bed chambers."

„Not we," Oliver amended her final point, his jaw set. „Don't argue with me, Felicity," he cut her off swiftly. „Just reaching the manor itself will be challenge enough, given the skill of the guards Benchley boasted of. The house is filled with sleeping people. The slightest noise could awaken them. We'll do the lower floor together. Then you'll stand guard while I relieve the viscountess of her jewel case and leave the emerald on Benchley's pillow."

„What about the guest quarters? Judging from the array of bracelets and necklaces I saw at the ball, the ladies' jewel cases must be brimming."

A corner of Oliver's mouth lifted. „Daring, aren't you? I fear I've created a monster. Very well, Snow flame. If we accomplish all we've discussed without incident, we'll visit the guest wing. You'll remain at the head of the hall while I appropriate whatever trinkets I can."

„Excellent."

„And to think I worried that you cared for the bandit. In truth, you were living vicariously through him."

„Both," Felicity clarified, caressing Oliver's arm. „I was and I do." An impish grin. „You're very potent in green."

„I'll keep that in mind." Sobering, Oliver transferred the reins to one hand, wrapped the other arm about Felicity's waist. „Do everything precisely as I do. Follow my lead, just in case any details of our plan need to be suddenly altered. And Snow flame, most of all, be … careful. Exciting or not, this is no game. It's very real. And very dangerous."

„I realize that. I won't disappoint you. Heaven knows, you've never disappointed me." Her own words sparked a thought. „Speaking of which, though this is hardly the time, I want to thank you for taking Sarah in. It meant a great deal to me."

„I could see that." Oliver cast a brief sidelong glance at his wife. „I have the feeling your commitment to Sarah involves more than just sympathy for her plight."

„It does. It will for you as well." Felicity studied her husband's hard profile. „Sarah and I have met before. I didn't realize it at first, not until I burst into her chamber." Seeing Oliver's brows draw in question, she explained. „When I left you at the ball, I stumbled upon an ugly scene between Sarah and Lady Benchley, a scene that resulted in Sarah's dismissal. My heart went out to her."

„So you followed her to offer comfort," Oliver supplied tenderly.

„Yes. Then when I saw her at close range … those eyes ..." Felicity swallowed. „Oliver, she was the girl I described to you, the one I saw clutching the tattered doll when I was eight and my father dragged me to the workhouse."

Oliver's head jerked around, brittle realization erupting in his mind. „You're telling me Sarah grew up in the House of Eternal Hope?"

„Yes. Her mother abandoned her there, then took her own life. Sarah has never had anyone to rely upon. This was my chance. Yours and my chance."

„Without a doubt. You did the right thing."

„I wanted to invite her as our guest. But she's far too proud to accept charity. So I thought, since she taught herself proper English, she could do the same for the children at Starling. Think of the example she'll set, the hope she'll offer."

Oliver brushed his lips across Felicity's head. „My beautiful, compassionate Snow flame."

„I intended to divulge all this to you at dawn, directly after we'd finished planning tonight's robbery, but ..." She blushed.

„But we forgot everything except each other," he concluded in a husky tone of remembered intimacy.

„Yes." Felicity fiddled with her mask. „Oliver, I told Sarah about you; about The House of Eternal Hope. Given the circumstances, it eased her despair. Are you angry?"

He shrugged. „I've never made a secret of my background. The only person I've chosen not to discuss the details with, for reasons you already know, is your father."

With a quick nod, Felicity plunged on. „There's one other thing you should be aware of. Sarah is with child."

A heartbeat of silence.

„I see. Has she told the father?"

„Evidently, he wants no part of either her or their babe."

„Why doesn't that surprise me," Oliver muttered, bitter memories scorching his throat.

„But, as was the case with your mother, Sarah does want her child. Very much. She's determined to offer it all the constancy and devotion she herself was denied."

„And so she shall." Oliver urged the horses around the bend leading to Benchley. „We'll do everything we can in order to help her."

„I knew you'd say that." With a sigh of relief, Felicity laid her head against Oliver's shoulder. She felt the almost imperceptible tensing of his body. „We're here," she realized aloud, a statement not a question.

„Yes." Oliver maneuvered the carriage into a small, concealed grove of trees. That done, he turned to Felicity. „Snow flame, are you absolutely certain you want to do this? You can still change your mind." „I'm very certain." She brushed her lips across his chin. „Moreover, the Green Arrow Bandit cannot strike without me, not tonight." She patted her pocket. „I have the emerald, remember? So you see, changing my mind is not an option. Not for me or for you. Now, shall we make quick work of Benchley's impenetrable abode?"

Admiration flickered in Oliver's eyes. „Very well, Madam Bandit." Slipping on green gloves, he tugged his masked hood over his head, adjusting it to allow him to see. He took Felicity's mask, waiting only until her gloves were on and she'd twisted her hair atop her head, before he pulled the hood on her, helped her cover most of her face. He then billowed the black cape about her until all her feminine curves were eclipsed from view.

Objectively, Oliver looked over her, making certain not a shred of evidence was visible that could identify the dark-clad figure as his wife.

„Will I do?" Felicity murmured, intentionally dropping her voice to an unrecognizable drone.

Beneath his mask, Oliver smiled. „Better than even I expected."

Lightly, he jumped to the ground, gripping Felicity's waist and lowering her beside him. „Let's go."

They made their way through the trees, careful not to walk on the path leading to the gates, lest their shoes make even the slightest crunch on the roadway.

Two powerfully built guards leaned against the silver gates. Oliver stopped, gesturing to Felicity to stay behind him. Then, he took up a good-sized rock and flung it with all his might.

It hit the dirt on the far side of the gates.

„What the hell was that?" one guard muttered, reaching into his pocket for a pistol.

„We'd better look."

Oliver called upon his incomparable timing, waiting until just the right moment, when the guards had walked far enough from their posts to be out of viewing range, but not so far that they'd halt, thus eliminating their receding, but revealing, footsteps. Then, he acted, beckoning to Felicity, edging swiftly to the gate.

His fine-tuned hearing told him his wife was right behind him. To be certain he waited, carefully easing her between the iron posts before he followed suit.

The vast grounds of the estate loomed before them, illuminated by a full, glittering moon.

Choosing the most thickly treed areas, Oliver led Felicity toward the house, urging her to the ground when the trees ebbed into gardens. Crouched low, they crept through the paths between flower beds, pausing now and again to listen for the steps of the vigilant sentries.

Experience had taught Oliver to surge forward a scant moment after any guards had passed by, as that was when they were the most confident, and the most careless of the region they'd so recently perused. Armed with that knowledge, he timed each advance perfectly, inching closer and closer to the sleeping manor.

At last, their destination was upon them, dark and silent.

Oliver squeezed Felicity's gloved hand and pointed toward the conservatory. Then, he moved stealthily toward it.

Taut with anticipation, Felicity followed.

As Oliver had predicted, the conservatory windows were broad, each fastened by a catch on either side. Pausing only to reassure himself no one was about, Oliver whipped out his knife and, in less than ten seconds, had cut a pane of glass just large enough to admit his hand. He reached around, forced back both catches and, an instant later, leaped lightly to his feet on the conservatory floor.

Turning, he eased Felicity in beside him.

In silent unison they removed their shoes, pausing to listen intently for any sound that would indicate their entry had been detected.

Nothing.

They lit a single candle and made their way to the pantry. Gleaming silver beckoned them, and Oliver nodded with great satisfaction, pointing to those pieces small enough and valuable enough to steal.

Next they tiptoed to the library. Felicity slid open the desk drawer, removed the strongbox, and was about to slide it closed again when Oliver gripped her wrist to stop her. In rapt fascination, she watched as he reached behind to unlatch the desk's hidden compartment, removing a thick stack of notes and a bejeweled snuffbox, all of which he shoved into his sack before abandoning the room.

The hallway was eerily quiet, the silence broken only by the chimes of the grandfather clock tolling the hour.

Oliver positioned Felicity in the shadowed alcove at the foot of the stairs. Meaningfully, he gripped her shoulders, reminding her to stay put. Felicity gave a terse nod, reaching into her pocket to extract the emerald.

Clutching the gem, Oliver turned and prowled slowly up the staircase, close to its side to avoid making even the slightest creak. His lithe movements reminded Felicity yet again of a potent, stalking panther.

Five minutes later, he was back. Lightly, he tapped the jewel case in his sack, showing Felicity the job was done.

With a quizzical tilt of her head, Felicity gestured toward the guest wing. Oliver nodded.

Outside each bed chamber, Oliver cocked his head, concentrating on the sounds emanating from within. They invaded only those rooms whose occupants' even breathing assured him that they were deeply asleep, and whose doors were either unlocked or could be made so with one quick flick of his knife.

By the time Felicity and Oliver left the guest quarters, their pouch was bulging with jewel cases, silver pieces, and pound notes.

They were just retracing their steps, when Feilcity spied what appeared to be a small drawing room tucked away in a tiny nook alongside the conservatory. She grasped Oliver's arm, indicating, not the room's existence, but the ornate lock enhancing its wooded door.

Oliver drew near, frowning beneath his mask. He'd never seen anything quite like it: the lock was made from a heavy plate, covering a wide portion of the doorway. Its entire surface was dominated by the figure of a man, fully clad from boots to hat, a weapon clasped in his hands. Nowhere, either near or on the figure, could Oliver detect evidence of a keyhole.

Leaning up on tiptoes, Felicity spoke for the first time, whispering close to her husband's ear. „Such a complex lock. What could it protect?"

Intrigued and frustrated, Oliver nodded, then leaned closer, peering at the man himself. Somewhere beneath the figure was the only logical place for a keyhole to be hidden. But where? Tentatively, he probed at the plating, searching for an answer.

Felicity watched eagerly, squinting as she contemplated the possibilities. Acting on impulse, she reached past Oliver, pressing first the man's arm, then his weapon, and at last his foot.

She felt something give.

Firmly, she pressed the boot again.

A spring released, and the man's foot thrusted upward, revealing the dark recess of a keyhole.

Oliver's head jerked about, and Felicity nearly laughed aloud at the surprise she saw reflected in his eyes.

Recovering himself, he whisked out his knife, inserted it in the keyhole, and clicked open the lock.

Felicity handed Oliver the candle, allowing him to precede her into the dark, musty room. The furnishings were unimpressive … two settees, an armed chair, a tea table, and a sideboard … an average drawing room.

Puzzled, Oliver approached the tea table, running his gloved hands over its surface, feeling about for a hidden catch. He straightened, shaking his head. Bypassing the other furnishings, he went to the sideboard, repeating the same process.

A concealed drawer swung open, and Felicity bit her lip to keep from exclaiming aloud.

Blinking up at them was a bejeweled chest the size of a small tome, set with a myriad of multicolored gemstones, each one larger than the last. Its value was incomprehensible.

Triumphantly, Oliver lifted the treasure from its home, carefully sliding the drawer closed before stashing the chest in his coat and urging Felicity toward the door.

The man's boot eased back, but the lock refused to slip into place.

Thoroughly perplexed, Oliver tried pushing the boot in the opposite direction. Then, when that was unsuccessful, he shoved at the other boot. Still, the door remained unbolted.

A sudden feeling came over Felicity, an ominous premonition of danger. Fearfully, she looked about, seeing nothing but darkness, hearing nothing but silence.

Still, the anxiety persisted.

„Let's go," she breathed, tugging at Oliver.

He nodded, simultaneously feeling his way along the man's hat.

The second spring gave in, lowering the hat over the man's eyes and sliding the bolt back into place.

A menacing growl sounded.

„The dog." Even as Felicity said the words, she remembered the venomous beast she'd seen tearing at Sarah's gown the night before.

„Come. Now." Oliver's fingers bit into Felicity's arm as he dragged her toward the conservatory.

Violent barking erupted, the sound of racing paws closing in at a rapid pace.

„Dover? What is it?" Viscount Benchley's sleepy voice emanated from the second-floor landing.

„Hurry," Oliver commanded as they reached their destination.

„Who's there?" Benchley evidently heard their running footsteps, for his own approached at an alarming rate.

„Run," Oliver hissed, scooping up their shoes and boosting Felicity out the window all at once. „Wait for me by the road."

„No." Vehemently, she shook her head, understanding instantly that Oliver meant to sacrifice himself to spare her. „I won't go without you."

„I'll be right behind you. Now go."

A heartbeat later, Felicity felt the cold night air against her skin, the ground beneath her feet.

„Run, damn it," Oliver ordered through clenched teeth, already hoisting himself through the open window.

He was standing beside her when the shot rang out. Oliver's hand flew to his shoulder, a muffled groan escaping his lips.

„Where are you, you bloody bastard?" Benchley bellowed, leaning out to scan the grounds. „You won't escape. Not this time."

With all her strength, Felicity flattened both Oliver and herself against the manor wall, holding her breath as she waited.

The moment Benchley's head disappeared from view, she reached for her husband's arm. „Are you all right?"

„We've got to get off the grounds," Oliver managed, blood seeping through his fingers. „Before Benchley has time to alert his guards."

„But you're ..."

„There isn't time." Even as he spoke, the house came to life, voices and lamplight splitting the peace of night. „Let's go." Fighting the stinging pain in his shoulder, Oliver took Felicity's hand, keeping her flush to the manor as they sidestepped their way to the building's edge.

Acres of sprawling land stretched between them and safety.

„We'll never get past all those men," Felicity panted, her terrified gaze taking in the immense stretch of gardens, utterly exposed by the moon's brilliant glow.

„What you suggested earlier," Oliver muttered unsteadily. „I have an idea." In one motion, he yanked off his mask, reaching over to remove Felicity's as well. Swiftly, he shoved them inside his coat, then unbound Felicity's golden tresses, letting them tumble free to her shoulders.

„Oliver, you've been shot. Are you insane?" Felicity gasped.

„Probably." With a grimace of pain, Oliver unclasped his wife's cape, wrapping it around the two of them in an apparently intimate cocoon. „Are the bloodstains covered?"

„Yes, but ..."

„Good. So are my unconventional attire and our evening's spoils. Now put on your shoes." He thrust them at her, donning his own in a few quick, jerky movements. Waiting only until she'd complied, Oliver stepped boldly out of the shadows, tugging Felicity in his wake. „Follow my lead. Walk."

„Oliver ..."

„Snow flame," he stared down into her confused blue eyes, a spasm of pain shuddering through him, „trust me."

With a weak nod, she fell into step beside him, hovering a hairsbreadth from hysteria.

From halfway across the grounds, more shouts emerged, and a myriad of guards began racing purposefully over the estate, their plodding steps drawing closer and closer.

„Relax," Oliver murmured into Felicity's hair. He paused, waiting until two sentries were nearly within view. Then, he veered Felicity around, drew her against him and covered her lips with his.

„Uh, pardon me, sir."

Oliver raised his head, an obviously irritated expression on his face. „Yes?"

The guard shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other. „I'm sorry to interrupt ..."

„Indeed." Oliver enfolded Felicity protectively against his jewel-laden coat. „A little discretion would be appropriate, if you don't mind."

„I understand, sir," the other guard inserted, turning three shades of red. „But Lord Benchley's just been robbed."

„Robbed?" Oliver looked shocked. „Good lord. What was taken?"

„I don't know the details yet, sir."

„Well, I'd best go to the guest quarters at once and ensure that my belongings are safe."

„Of course. But first ..." the guard cleared his throat self-consciously, „Did you happen to see anything or anyone who looked suspicious?"

„No, I can't say I did. Did you, darling?" Oliver asked Felicity.

From somewhere inside her, Felicity found the strength she needed. „No," she murmured breathlessly. „But then, I was hardly looking about." She paused for effect. „Please, my lord, I'd appreciate your returning me to the manor. If my husband should discover my absence ..." Delicately, she broke off.

„Of course, sweet." Oliver gave the guards a meaningful look. „I'm sure you'll forgive us? I'd like to see the lady to her room before any irrevocable damage has been done."

„By all means, sir. We apologize for detaining you."

Backing off, the guards darted onward.

Ten minutes later, Oliver shoved Felicity through the gates and weaved his way onto the road beside her. By this time, he was sheet-white, and nothing could disguise the blood soaking through his coat and running down his arm.

„The sentries who were here earlier," Oliver gazed about, blinking to clear his vision, „by now they're all inside, swarming the grounds." Sharply, he inhaled, leaning against a tree. „We should be all right."

„Stay here," Felicity commanded.

She didn't wait for a reply. Breaking into a run, she raced toward the grove of trees that concealed their carriage.

Minutes later, she rode up to collect her rapidly fading husband.

„The carriage. You're too close to the manor," Oliver rasped in protest.

„I don't give a damn." Felicity wrapped her arm about his waist. „The sooner you're in that carriage, the sooner we'll be gone. Now, help me."

Between the two of them, Oliver made it into the front seat.

Felicity climbed in beside him, slapped the reins and sped off into the night.

„What if the servants are awake?" Oliver muttered as Felicity half dragged, half carried him up the stairs at Starling.

„That's a chance we'll have to take." She urged him toward the landing, praying they would reach his bed chamber without incident. The ride home had been a nightmare, with Oliver in a semi-conscious state. Never before had Felicity been so grateful to arrive anywhere as she'd been when they passed through Starling's iron gates.

With a physical strength she never knew she possessed, Felicity maneuvered Oliver down the hall and into his chambers. She locked the door behind them, her insides wrenching with apprehension as her husband collapsed on the bed.

She went to him at once, flinging aside her blood-soaked cape, and gingerly peeling off his coat and shirt. Then she fetched a basin of water and went to work cleansing the wounded area, simultaneously assessing the severity of the injury.

„A flesh wound." Despite Oliver's condition, he recognized the panicked look on Felicity's face and attempted to assuage it. Averting his head, he stared dazedly at his oozing shoulder. „The bullet just grazed me."

„Thank God. Still, you've lost a great deal of blood." Schooling her features, Felicity continued to wash the wound, determined to conceal her distress.

Her hands shook as she rinsed out the cloth, watched the basin water turn a sickly shade of red.

„Felicity," Oliver stayed her with his other hand, „I'm fine. Just weak."

„I'll bind the area," she said in a quavery voice, rising to walk to his double chest. „It will help stop the bleeding." She took out several clean handkerchiefs and returned to the bed. Carefully, she wrapped the injured shoulder, putting as much pressure on it as she dared without causing Oliver undue pain.

Her own head spinning, Felicity fought for composure, crossing the room to pour Oliver a brandy. „This will help the pain," she whispered.

Gratefully, Oliver tossed off the drink, relieved as the spirits did their work, dulling the agony to a dull, tolerable throb.

„Is it easing?" Felicity asked, stroking Oliver's jaw with cold, shaking fingers.

He nodded, turning his lips into her palm. „I've survived worse." His glazed stare fell on his discarded coat. „Thompson. He's expecting me in London."

„Thompson?" A pucker formed between Felicity's brows. „Mr. Thompson? The jeweler?"

Oliver gave her a slight smile. „Um-hum. The one who bought your brooch for such an unexpectedly high price."

„How did you know ...?" Felicity broke off, realization dawning on her face. „You were there."

„Not only there, but the proud owner of that hideous pin." A chuckle, despite his muddled senses. „You were remarkable for a novice."

„Thompson." Felicity was thinking aloud. „He's your contact, isn't he? The one who buys the jewels you take."

„Passionate, beautiful, and clever."

„That's how you knew I donated the money to the school." Rapidly, the pieces fell into place. „You followed me from Mr. Thompson's shop. How could you be certain I'd choose his store in which to peddle Mama's brooch?"

„I couldn't." Oliver caressed her fingertips. „It was not even a gamble, but a lucky twist of fate."

„When is Mr. Thompson expecting you?"

„Before dawn."

„And which workhouse had you planned to visit?"

Silence.

„Oliver, tell me."

„The Faithful Heart," was the reluctant reply.

„In the East End. I know the place." Felicity inhaled sharply. „I'll wash and change clothes. Then, I'll take our booty, plus a bit extra, ride to London and perform both errands. I'll be back by midday." She tapped her chin thoughtfully. „I'll tell the staff you took ill and need complete privacy and bed rest. That way you won't be disturbed during my absence. Have I omitted anything?"

„Yes." Oliver struggled to a sitting position. „I have no intention of allowing you to go."

Felicity bent forward, brushing Oliver's lips in the softest of kisses, thanking God for sparing him. „My heroic husband." She withdrew Oliver's blade from his pocket, raising her skirts and tucking the knife safely beneath her concealing petticoats. „I'm afraid you don't have a choice."

Oliver was up, pacing unsteadily, when Felicity entered his bed chamber just after noon.

„What are you doing?" she demanded, closing the door behind her. „Your wound ..."

„Is fine," he retorted, making his way toward her. „I changed the bandage an hour ago. The bleeding has stopped. I'll mend. What am I doing? Worrying about you." Fiercely, he wrapped his good arm about her and drew her against him. „You've been gone forever. Thank God you're safe."

Felicity wound her arms about his waist. „This from the man who doesn't believe in prayers?" she murmured, laying her cheek against his chest.

„Did Thompson try anything unethical? Did he cheat you? Doubt you? Hurt you in any way?"

„No. Actually, he was quite amused by the whole situation." Felicity extracted the blade, handing it to Oliver with an impish grin. „However, he did offer me a job."

„Very humorous. What about the workhouse? Did you have any trouble?"

„No, no, and no." Tentatively, Felicity touched Oliver's bandages. „Tell me, you're all right?"

„Now I am." He buried his lips in her hair. „Christ, I was frantic."

„I understand. I'd feel precisely the same way." A heavy silence hung between them. „Oliver, you were almost killed."

He squeezed his eyes shut, reliving the moment when he'd believed himself caught, when all he could think of was losing Felicity.

When, for the first time in thirty years, his life mattered more than his cause.

And when he'd suddenly, vividly, known what he stood to lose.

„I heard that gunshot," Felicity was saying in a strangled tone. „I saw you struck, and all I could think of was ..." She broke off, fought to regain her composure. „No. I won't do this." She drew a deep, shuddering breath. „I need you, Oliver. But I also love you. I can't … won't ask you to relinquish your quest. I understand the bond you share with the children. Lord knows, I care for their happiness as much as you do. So whatever decision you make, I'll respect, and leave it to God to bring you home safely to me." She stepped back, took Oliver's hand in hers. „Here," she said in an aching whisper.

Oliver opened his eyes in time to see his wife press a large sapphire into his palm.

„You didn't specify which stone you wanted me to save," she managed. „So I had Mr. Thompson pry this from the chest. I hope you approve of my choice."

A wave of emotion engulfed Oliver's heart. For a long moment he stared down at the glistening gem, awed by his wife's selflessness, more awed by the realization that the decision he'd so vehemently sought had, in the end, found him.

„A most impressive gem," he replied, his voice oddly choked. „We'll put it in the drawer with my cravats as a covert symbol of our one unforgettable crime together." His thumb stroked the tears from her cheeks. „It's time," he pronounced soberly. „As of now the Green Arrow Bandit will restrict himself solely to the second half of his ritual."

„Once a month I'll leave a green arrow together with money in a workhouse of my choosing. And if I'm caught, well, I'll merely attribute my odd brand of generosity to all the inspiring articles I've read on the Green Arrow Bandit. The retired Green Arrow Bandit. The difference, however, will be that, unlike my predecessor, my actions will be totally legal. And I can't be shot or hung for donating my own funds, now can I?"

Wordlessly, Felicity smiled through her tears.

„Am I presuming you approve of my plan?" Seeing the question in his wife's eyes, Oliver shook his head. „I'm not doing this for you, Snow flame." He tossed the sapphire to the bed, extending his now empty hand to her, offering her their future. „I'm doing this for me."

„No, Oliver," Felicity demurred softly, drawing his palm close, placing it against her abdomen to share her newly discovered miracle. „You're doing this for our child."


	21. Chapter 20

**Chapter 20**

„What information have you brought me, Larson?"

Merlyn perched on the edge of his desk, his eyes narrowed expectantly on the investigator.

„Very little, sir. The marchioness keeps mostly to herself. If you'll forgive me for saying so, I see no evidence of improper behavior, and certainly no indication that your wife is being unfaithful."

„Does that mean no guests have visited Rutland?"

„Other than your clergyman, no."

„Lance?" Merlyn sat up straighter. „He called on Donna again? Was he alone?"

„Yes sir, just as he was on the two previous occasions." Larson glanced at his notes and shrugged. „He arrived shortly before four in the afternoon, evidently for tea. The butler ushered him into the drawing room, the maid put the flowers in a vase, and ..."

„Flowers?" Merlyn jumped on that revelation. „The vicar brought flowers?"

Larson startled, clearly taken aback by the vehemence of Merlyn's tone. „A mere formality, my lord," he hastened to assure him. „Nothing more lavish than any casual caller would offer."

„Nothing lavish. Were they yellow, perchance?"

„As a matter of fact, yes, they were."

„Yellow roses," Merlyn muttered, bitterness and satisfaction lacing his tone. „How charming."

„My lord, if you're suggesting that anything indiscreet transpired between the marchioness and the vicar, I must assure you ..."

„I don't pay you to assure me, Larson," Merlyn snapped. „Nor do I pay you for your interpretations of my wife's behavior. To refresh your memory, I pay you to uncover information and to recollect it exactly. Bear that in mind."

„Very well, my lord."

„The roses. You saw the vicar present them to the marchioness?"

Larson nodded. „I did. I was, as always, concealed in the hedges just outside the drawing-room window. I don't dare move about during daylight hours. The duke has numerous guards stalking the grounds."

Impatiently, Merlyn waved away Larson's meandering explanation. „What happened after Lance gave Donna the flowers?"

„She gestured for him to take a seat, which he did. He stayed only long enough to drink one cup of tea, then took his leave."

„Did he sit beside Donna?"

„No, my lord." Larson rustled the paper in his hand. „As I've indicated in my report, the vicar sat in an arm chair, the marchioness on a settee. They made not the slightest attempt at physical contact. They simply chatted."

„Could you hear what they were saying?"

„Not through the closed window, no. But judging from their serene expressions, I would suggest the vicar was offering counsel to Lady Merlyn. A qualified opinion, my lord. Not an interpretation," Larson added.

Merlyn leaned forward, gripping his knees. „I want you to think very carefully, Larson. Were any of the servants present during the vicar's stay?"

Larson shifted his substantial weight. „If you'll forgive my impertinence, sir, I'm quite good at what I do, which is the reason you hired me. I needn't think carefully to recall what transpired. It's all recorded on paper." Again, he indicated his written sheet. „To answer your question, the only person other than the butler who entered the drawing room during the vicar's visit was the maid who brought them refreshments."

„And did she remain throughout his stay?"

„No. She served them tea and scones, then took her leave."

„Then they were alone. Excellent." Merlyn came to his feet with a flourish. „It is just the additional proof I required." He shoved some bills in Larson's hand. „Another fortnight should be enough time to fulfill my purpose."

„Does that mean you want me to continue surveying the estate, my lord?"

„It does indeed. And pay special attention to the vicar's comings and goings, innocent though they may seem."

„Very well. It's your money, sir."

„Yes." Merlyn's eyes glinted. „It is, isn't it?"

With a puzzled shrug, Larson stuffed the bills in his pocket. „Shall I report to you next week at the same time?"

„Definitely."

„Very well. Good day, Lord Merlyn."

„Very good day, Larson."

Merlyn waited only until the investigator was gone before he crossed the room, poured himself a congratulatory drink. Things were proceeding even better than he'd hoped. Oh, he'd known it was only a matter of time before the sentimental dolt began calling on Donna, presumably to see to her well being. But flowers? Yellow roses, no less, even after all these years. And unchaperoned visits? The witless clergyman was making his own job laughably easy.

Lifting his glass, Merlyn smiled malevolently. A fortnight longer, he thought, tossing off the brandy. And then all he cared about would be his: vengeance, money …

A hesitant knock interrupted his celebration.

„Yes? What is it?"

„Forgive me, my lord," the butler murmured, „but your solicitor is here to see you. He apologizes for not having an appointment, but ..."

„Diggle?" Merlyn's face lit up. „Perfect timing. Send him right in."

„Yes, Sir."

The butler disappeared, only to usher the solicitor directly into the study. „Mr. Diggle, Sir."

„Diggle, what a splendid coincidence. I was just thinking of you," Merlyn began.

The solicitor didn't return his smile. „As I told your butler, I apologize for arriving without an appointment. However, I did need to see you on several important matters. Being in the vicinity, I took the liberty of dropping in unannounced."

Diggle's stiff demeanor did not go unnoticed. Quizzically, Merlyn inclined his head. „Very well. May I offer you something?"

„Thank you, no. This is not a social call." Purposefully, Diggle remained standing, extracting two formal-looking papers from his portfolio and handing the first to Merlyn. „This document is your official notification that I will no longer be representing your interests."

Merlyn's mouth dropped open. „What?"

„To be blunt, Merlyn, those who engage my services pay their bills. I shudder to think how much you owe me. However, rest assured, I plan to determine the full amount of your debt. And once I have, I'll do whatever is necessary to recoup my losses."

„This is an outrage!" Merlyn sputtered. „We've done business together for years."

„Yes. Uncompensated business. I'm no longer willing to endure your unfulfilled promises of payment."

„You're making a grave mistake, Diggle. In less than a month, I expect to ..."

„Don't humiliate either of us by boasting of some fictitious fortune you're about to attain," Diggle interrupted quietly. „My decision is made."

„Fine." Merlyn's lips thinned as he savored the victory that would soon be his. „You're the fool, not I. And when the very real fortune of which I speak is mine, I shall engage a shrewder and more influential solicitor to manage my funds." He laughed, a caustic sound of gloating triumph. „Yes, I believe I shall begin searching for the ideal candidate posthaste."

Diggle shrugged. „That, of course, is your right." He extended the second formally prepared paper to Merlyn. „There's a second reason I can no longer represent you, which this document will clarify."

„What is it?" Merlyn snatched the page.

„It's a statement of intent. I thought it only ethical to advise you that I'm representing your wife's interests now."

„My wife's ..." Merlyn stared blankly at the paper, hot color suffusing his face.

„The marchioness intends to sever your marriage. I've engaged a barrister."

„Donna is trying to secure a divorce?"

„She is."

„On what grounds?"

„Extreme cruelty."

Merlyn sank slowly into a chair, still gaping at the document in his hands. „Does she understand the ramifications? For her? For Felicity? Donna will be shunned and Felicity will be bastardized."

„Not if we're granted a parliamentary divorce."

The Marquis gave a humorless laugh. „A parliamentary divorce? You're more of a fool than I imagined, Diggle. Donna is a woman. She and I are estranged. She is, therefore, without money or credibility, both of which are needed in vast amounts to pursue something as unlikely as a legal divorce."

„And both of which are possessed in vast amounts by the Duke of Starling."

A chilling silence.

„Starling? That lowlife, contemptible ..."

„The very same." A corner of Diggle's mouth lifted. „My association with him, judging from your reaction, represents another conflict of interests."

„Do you realize who he is? What he is?"

„You must know that I do. I was, after all, the one who notified him of his newly acquired title. I represented his late father for years."

„And you'll trust his word over mine? A workhouse bastard?"

Diggle's gaze was icy. „There are all different types of bastards, Merlyn. I'll take a scrupulous one like Dearden any day. Moreover," a biting smile, „he pays his bills. Good day."

Merlyn stared vacantly after Diggle's retreating form, blood pounding through his temples. His numbed gaze lowered to the pages he held … Dearden's ultimate degradation.

With a muttered oath, he crumpled the documents into tight fists of fury, hatred for Dearden coursing running through his veins.

The bastard had pushed him to the limit; stripped him of his money, his family, and now his dignity.

But it wasn't over. Far from it.

Let Diggle do as he would. Let him and the street scum he worked for think they'd won.

He knew better.

Backed into a corner, he knew there was but one way out. One way to flourish and punish all at once.

Unclenching his fists, Merlyn smoothed out the rumpled papers. Then, with deliberate precision, he tore them once, twice, and crossed his study to toss the shreds into the fire.

„Felicity, don't!"

Oliver took the room in five long strides, catching his wife's waist and hoisting her off the chair where she'd stood on tiptoes, reaching for the window. „What the hell are you doing?" he demanded, setting her feet on the floor.

With a start of surprise, Felicity regained her balance, her dismayed gaze darting at once to Oliver's shoulder. „You shouldn't be lifting me. Your shoulder ..."

„Is healed, and has been for a week. Now answer my question. What the hell are you doing?"

„I'm adjusting the curtains." Tucking a loose wisp of hair behind her ear, Felicity gazed about Starling's new, neatly arranged classroom with utter satisfaction. „Once the slates and chalk arrive today, our schoolroom will be ready for use." Quizzically, she regarded Oliver's furious scowl. „Why are you angry?"

„Because you could have fallen, damn it. You don't stand on chairs when you're with child."

Felicity's lips twitched. „Really? And how many times have you been with child?"

„I'm not amused."

„No, but you're terribly heroic." Felicity reached up, laying her palm on her husband's jaw. „Fear not. The babe and I are fine. I'm taking excellent care of us both."

„This from the woman who invaded Benchley, endangered her life and the life of our child, knowing she was pregnant."

Felicity gave a resigned sigh. „You're never going to forgive me for that, are you? Even though I've told you time and again that, in my heart, I knew no harm could befall me or our child. You wouldn't allow it."

Oliver pulled her to him. „Your faith is humbling and frightening. What if ..."

„It wouldn't. You wouldn't permit it." Felicity pressed her forehead against the hard wall of Oliver's chest, warm even through the barrier of his shirt. „At Benchley, you were beside me. The babe and I were safe. It is as simple as that."

Reflexively, Oliver's arms tightened about her. „You truly believe that, don't you?"

„I do."

He swallowed, audibly. „Snow flame, don't take any more risks, all right? For my sake."

„Very well." She kissed his throat. „Although I must say, my reckless husband, that impending fatherhood has rendered you quite boring and stodgy."

Oliver smiled against her hair. „I heard no complaints last night."

„True." Felicity tilted her head back, her eyes alight with laughter. „Perhaps your recently abated sense of adventure will show itself in new and innovative ways."

„Say the word," Oliver murmured, his voice husky with sensual promise, „and I'll keep you abed for a week, demonstrating my ever-thriving inventiveness."

„We've barely left our chambers all week."

„That was a precautionary step." He brushed her lips with his. „My shoulder needed to heal, so we didn't have to explain the coincidence between my sudden injury and that of the Green Arrow Bandit who, as the newspapers reported, was shot and wounded upon fleeing Benchley."

„The staff thinks you were ill." Felicity shivered as Oliver's lips found the pulse point in her neck.

„Tell them I had a relapse."

„Oliver, I can't."

„Then tell them nothing." Releasing his wife, Oliver crossed the room, turning the key in the lock. „Our new schoolroom needs to be initiated." He pivoted, advancing toward Felicity with a suggestive gleam in his eye. „You choose, Snow flame. The oak desk or the oriental rug."

Felicity's eyes widened as she realized what her husband intended.

„Oliver." She flushed. „You can't actually mean to … What if someone should ..."

„Abated sense of adventure, you said?" Oliver shrugged out of his coat, tossing it to the floor, followed quickly by his shirt and cravat. „Boring? Stodgy?" His arms enveloped Felicity, reaching around to unfasten her buttons in rapid succession. „Am I being innovative enough, my spirited wife?" he breathed just before his mouth closed over hers.

With a soft sound of pleasure, Felicity twined her arms about Oliver's neck, everything inside her going hot and liquid with longing.

„Choose," he commanded as her gown and petticoats slid to the floor.

„I ..." Felicity couldn't think, much less choose.

„The rug is softer." His thumbs caressed her nipples until they strained against her chemise. „But on the desk I can go deeper inside you."

„Oh God." Felicity's knees buckled, and she stepped back, bracing herself against the desk. „Here," she managed, tugging her chemise over her head.

Oliver's gaze raked her hungrily. „I applaud your choice, Snow flame." With undisguised urgency, he dragged off the remainder of his clothing, lifting Felicity onto the edge of the desk. „Let me feel you," he demanded in an uneven whisper. Still standing, he urged himself between her thighs, leaving her totally open to receive him. „Do you want me, sweetheart?" He took her mouth under his, simultaneously gliding his fingers into her welcoming wetness.

Felicity moaned, clutching him more tightly to her.

„Ah, Felicity." His lips burned a trail down her neck, her throat. His fingers began an unbearable rhythm that burned through her like a torch. „Yes," he breathed as her hips undulated in response. „Now lean back on your hands."

Immediately, Felicity complied, her eyes closing with pleasure as she gave Oliver free access to her body.

He welcomed the gift, lowering his head to her breast, drawing the aching tip into his mouth, relinquishing it only when Felicity cried out, and then, only to lavish her other breast with the same attention.

„Christ, you're so beautiful," he muttered, his lips moving restlessly down her body. He paused, laying his palm on her abdomen. „My child is growing inside you. Can you imagine what that knowledge does to me?"

Wetting her lips, Felicity attempted to answer. Her answer never emerged.

Oliver's tongue sank inside her, his fingers drifting up the sensitive skin of her inner thighs as they pressed them wide apart to allow him greater freedom.

Felicity was unable to stifle her cry, arching until she felt the cool wood against her back, her elbows totally giving out beneath Oliver's relentless onslaught. The pleasure was acute and unendurable, converging instantly into a blinding pinpoint of sensation that exploded in seconds, spasms of excruciating ecstasy radiating out from her very core.

„Oliver!" She sobbed his name, reaching for him even in the throes of her release.

She was still shuddering when he entered her, taking her in one deep, inexorable thrust.

„Wrap your legs around me, Snow flame," he rasped, clamping his hands on her hips, holding her while he withdrew, drove forward again.

Felicity whimpered, her spasms intensifying as she raised her legs, gripping Oliver inside and out, reveling in his groan of pleasure.

„Unbelievable," he ground out. „Christ, I want to prolong it, but ..." He threw his head back, giving in to the inevitable, thrusting into his wife again and again until the world erupted, his seed pouring into her in great, endless bursts.

Still embedded in her clinging softness, Oliver stood, lifting Felicity in his arms and turning until he was seated on the desk, his wife cradled to his chest. „It just keeps getting better," he said in a husky whisper, his hand shaking as he stroked her hair.

A faint sigh was his only reply, sparking a new worry.

„Felicity. The babe … I tried not to give you my full weight."

„Your heir and I both feel wonderful, Your Grace." Felicity kissed his damp throat. „And we retract the undeserved comments we made about your sense of adventure being lacking."

Laughter rumbled from Oliver's chest. „I'm glad I redeemed myself." His grin turned wicked. „We'll soon see who is truly the bold one, you or I. Any second you're going to realize what we just did, and where."

Even as he spoke, reality struck full force. „Lord, Oliver, we just made love on the … in the ..."

„On the desk in our new schoolroom," Oliver supplied helpfully. „The question is, will you be able to walk in here when Sarah is seated at this desk instructing the children, and not succumb to blushes?"

„Never. Every time I come in, I'll remember." Felicity tilted her head back, gave Oliver an incredulous look. „You won't be at all embarrassed, will you?"

„Not even a bit." Oliver kissed the furrow between her brows. „But I'll enjoy watching you. You're enchanting when you blush." Gently, he set her on her feet. „Speaking of which, we should get dressed. I distinctly recall your mentioning that the chalk and slates are soon to be delivered, and I don't think even your newfound abandon could withstand being discovered in our current state."

He chuckled as Felicity turned a bright shade of crimson, practically flying about the room in her haste to don her clothes.

Ten minutes later Oliver unlocked the door. „Safe," he teased, glancing up and down the empty hallway. „And undiscovered." Turning back, he met Felicity's sober expression. „Snow flame? What is it?"

„Would you mind closing the door? I'd like to talk."

„Of course." Oliver did as she'd asked, his brows drawn in query.

„We haven't talked, _truly_ talked, since the robbery," Felicity began. „The emotions were too raw, the revelations too new. But now, especially after what we just shared, I need to know. Are you still angry with me? Not only for assisting you at Benchley in my current condition, but for keeping from you that I was with child?"

A shadow of emotion crossed Oliver's face. Steeling himself, he forced out the gnawing question that had hovered between them, unasked, all week. „How long have you known?"

„The possibility flitted through my mind the night the vicar came to dinner, when I suffered that uncustomary fainting spell. At first, I gave it no credence. But the next morning, I began feeling queasy, mainly at mealtimes. During our brief stay at Benchley, I kept experiencing that same lightheadedness, and the odd sensation of being out of sorts. As I was dressing for the ball, it suddenly occurred to me I haven't bled since our wedding. That's when I knew." Felicity crossed the room, grasped Oliver's forearms. „It was only two days. And my reasons for remaining silent were sound. Please don't be angry."

„I wasn't angry," he responded, shaking his head. „Bewildered. Hurt. Even a bit betrayed, if I'm to be honest." He cupped her face. „Honesty. Where was it, Felicity? We've always had that between us, right from the start."

„To a degree, yes," she clarified. „But, if you recall, there were several things, such as your identity, that you refrained from telling me."

„Only to protect you."

„Precisely."

Felicity laid her own hands over his. „That was my motive as well."

Oliver's gaze delved deep inside her. „How would denying me of the joy of knowing about our babe could protect me? Surely you guessed what a child, our child, would mean to me. The only reason you could possibly have for not telling me is ..."

„Is?" she prompted.

„That a small part of you is uncertain about the depth of my commitment. That you wonder if perhaps I'd want you to bear my child only to satisfy the terms of my father's will."

„Oh, Oliver." Felicity wrapped her arms about his waist. „Is that what you assumed? For a brilliant man, you're a bloody fool. I've never doubted your feelings. Lord knows, I perceived them long before you spoke them aloud. Nor have I given that absurd addendum a second thought since you told me of its existence. Doubt had nothing to do with my decision."

„Then why?"

„You were in torment," she said in a broken whisper. „The choice you were contemplating was tearing you apart. If I told you about the babe, you would have abandoned the bandit's cause posthaste, whether or not you truly chose to. I couldn't live with myself if you did that. So I waited, hoping you would share your secret with me, praying you'd make a decision that would grant you peace." A tremulous smile hovered about her lips. „The instant you did, I sang out my news, not only for your sake, but for my own." She leaned up, brushed her lips to his. „I know exactly how much you want this child … and why. I want it just as much." Her voice faltered. „I love you so."

„Without you," he shuddered, enfolding her in his arms, „I have nothing."

„You have me. Always. As I have you." Tears shimmered in Felicity's eyes. „We'll surrender our hearts … and our secrets."

„Have you others I don't know of?"

The wariness of his tone made her laugh. „None." She inclined her head. „Have you?"

Surprisingly, he hesitated. „Not a secret," he replied at length. „A suspicion. And an issue I have yet to discuss with you."

Felicity's teasing vanished. „What is it?"

„First I want you to sit down. Not because the subject will upset you," he added hastily, „but because I want you to rest." He traced the pale contours of her cheeks. „Between the intensity of our talk and, prior to that, our unexpected, exhilarating liaison on the desk," his eyes twinkled when she blushed, „I've overtaxed your strength."

„Very well." Felicity pulled back a chair and sat. „Now tell me what this is about."

He regarded her thoughtfully. „Has your mother ever made reference to her past? Before she married your father, that is."

Whatever Felicity had expected, it wasn't this. „My mother? I don't understand."

„Did she ever mention that there had been another man in her life? Someone she cared for? Someone important?"

Memory struck Felicity with the impact of a blow. „As a matter of fact, yes. Not directly, but in a roundabout manner. It was the morning I told her of your proposal. She urged me to follow my heart. Her implication was that she hadn't, but wished she had. Why do you ask?"

„Because I believe I know to whom her heart belonged … still belongs," Oliver amended. „You would, too, were you not so close to the situation."

„Who?"

„Mr. Lance." Seeing Felicity's eyes widen, Oliver pressed on. „Think about it, Snow flame. The caring that exists between them; the terribly protective way he looks out for her, hurts for her pain. And the ring." He gestured toward Felicity's hand. „When he wed us, he mentioned how significant that particular ring was to him."

„At which point Mama began to cry," Felicity mused aloud, realization dawning in her eyes. „Yes, it makes sense. He's known Mama since childhood, worries incessantly about my father's inexcusable brutality … toward me, yes, but most especially toward Mama. And the way they looked at each other in the church. I thought at the time it was merely friendship, but it was more." She gazed wonderingly up at Oliver. „What made you guess?"

„As I said, I'm more objective than you. Snatches of phrases, chance innuendos." A corner of his mouth lifted. „And those infallible instincts of mine."

Felicity didn't return the smile. Lost in thought, she rubbed pleats of her gown between her fingers. „This is dreadful. Not only were they denied their love once, lord only knows why, but they can still never be together, not even now that we've freed Mama from Father's brutality."

„You're wrong."

„Wrong?" She started. „Mama is Father's by law, you know that, Oliver. How on earth can she extricate herself from that? Not to mention that she's far too moral to carry on an illicit affair. As is the vicar, who's the most honorable of men."

„That's where the issue I mentioned comes in."

„I don't understand."

Oliver folded his arms across his chest. „I'm working with Diggle and a barrister who I'm told is an expert in matters such as these. I intend to help your mother secure a legal divorce."

„A divorce." Felicity repeated the words as if they were foreign. „Does Mama know you're doing this?"

„Of course. I have her full cooperation, and the vicar's as well."

Slowly, Felicity rose to her feet. „You've certainly been busy. A divorce." She turned questioning eyes to her husband. „But won't that prohibit Mama from remarrying?"

„Not if the divorce is issued by Parliament, no. And I mean to ensure that it is."

„How?"

Another grin. „I'm the Duke of Starling, remember? Wealthy beyond our wildest comprehension, influential beyond our grandest imaginings. Combine that with cunning, skill, and instinct, and success is guaranteed."

„Will it take long?"

„Some time, yes. Why?"

„Because I hate the thought of Mama and Mr. Lance being apart any longer than necessary." Felicity chewed her lip. „The question is, what can we do to bring them together?" Her face lit up. „I know! I'll send Mama a missive telling her I'm with child, that I'm not feeling well and require her assistance. She'll leave for Starling immediately." Just as quickly, Felicity's face fell. „But how can I summon the vicar? What excuse can I give for needing him at Starling?"

„You need no excuse. We'll simply send him a message informing him that Donna is leaving Rutland for Starling. We'll express our concern for her safety, given that Merlyn obviously knows her whereabouts, and request that the vicar chaperon her here. He'll be on his way just as swiftly as she."

A brilliant smile lit Felicity's face. „Have I told you how wonderful you are?"

„I believe so." Oliver tugged her close. „However, now that we've resolved the plights of the world, and all our secrets are out, I feel we should adjourn to my bed chamber where I can truly show you how wonderful ..."

A purposeful knock interrupted Oliver's suggestion. „The arrival of the chalk, probably," Felicity laughed.

„And the slates," Oliver added mournfully. „Very well. I'll curtail my enthusiasm. But later tonight ..."

Another knock, accompanied by a „Your Grace?"

„Yes Langley." Reluctantly, Oliver released Felicity.

„Come in."

The door opened, and Langley cast a tentative glance into the room. „Forgive me, sir, but Mr. Diggle is here to see you."

„Ah. Thank you, Langley. Show him in."

Diggle strode into the schoolroom, hand extended. „Hello, Dearden. I hope I'm not coming at an inopportune time?"

„No, of course not." Oliver kept his expression carefully nondescript, despite Felicity's revealing blush. „Sweetheart, you know Mr. Diggle, don't you?"

„Certainly. We've met at Merlyn Manor. How are you, sir?"

„Quite well, thank you." Diggle bowed. „Congratulations on your marriage, Your Gra … Mrs. ..." He broke off, a puzzled expression on his face.

„Proudly, it's Mrs. Dearden," Felicity supplied. „But neither formality is necessary. Felicity will suffice."

Diggle cocked a brow. „A woman as irreverent as you, Dearden."

„Proudly, yes." Oliver grinned. „What can I offer you?"

„Nothing. I came here directly from ..." Another hesitation.

„Felicity knows about our plans for her mother's divorce," Oliver informed him. „So if your visit relates to that, feel free to speak."

„Very well. I just left Merlyn Manor. The marquis didn't take kindly to what we have planned."

„I didn't expect that he would."

Felicity inhaled sharply. „If you gentlemen will excuse me, I'll see to the missives we just discussed."

Oliver caught her elbow. „Are you all right?"

„Yes. But I need not hear of my father's temper. I've experienced it first hand. And I am eager to pursue that other matter we spoke of."

„Fine." Oliver nodded his understanding.

„Good day, Mr. Diggle." Felicity gathered up her skirts. „It was a pleasure to see you again."

„And you, Felicity." Diggle watched her go, then turned back to Oliver. „I hope I didn't unnerve her."

„You didn't. But it's just as well that she not be involved. I don't want Felicity upset in any way, especially now."

„Now?"

A tender smile touched Oliver's lips. „Felicity is carrying my child." Abruptly, he cut off Diggle's anticipated response. „And if you so much as mention that bloody addendum, I'll have you thrown out."

„I didn't plan to." With a flicker of surprise, the solicitor studied Oliver's face. „You love your wife a great deal."

„A great deal."

„It's obvious she feels the same. You're a lucky man, Dearden."

„Very lucky. Felicity's love is the most precious of gifts, one I intend to pass on to our child. He'll be part of a home, with both a mother and father who want him. Never will he be forced to struggle for survival, nor will he know the futility of abandonment."

„And if he is a she?"

Oliver grinned. „Then I'll probably spoil her shamelessly, especially if she resembles her mother."

„I'm delighted for you. May the future more than make up for all the past has denied you."

„Up until recently, I would have claimed that to be impossible. But now, since Felicity," Oliver shook his head in wonder, „I'm starting to believe in tomorrow, in happiness, even in prayers."

„Is that why you're working so hard to answer Lady Merlyn's?"

Instantly, Oliver's smile vanished. „No. In Donna's case, I'm determined to free her from a man I know to be a monster."

„Merlyn detests you as much as you do him. Oh, he was irate when I terminated our business association. More so when I brought up the divorce. But he became livid when I mentioned your name, though he did his best to hide it." Diggle chuckled. „I truly think he was restraining himself from striking me."

„I expected something of the kind."

„You have quite a history together, I gather."

„You gather correctly." Oliver cleared his throat. „I'm sorry I missed that meeting we'd scheduled for last week. Have you any preliminary information for me regarding the divorce?"

Diggle frowned thoughtfully. „When I received your note saying you had left Benchley directly after the ball and were home, ill and too weak to travel to London, I met with Colby, the barrister I engaged, alone. He's now fully appraised of the situation. I've brought you a list of his fees and an outline of the procedure he suggested." Extracting several sheets of paper from his portfolio, Diggle offered them to Oliver. „Your illness must have been a brief one," he added casually. „You look in perfect health."

„Hmm?" Oliver was scanning the documents. „Oh, I'm feeling fit as ever. Evidently, something I ate at Benchley severely upset my system. It took several days for me to recover." He raised his head. „Incidentally, did you bring a draft for the past week's allocated allowance?"

„I did." Diggle withdrew the requisite check. „Why? Are you short of funds?"

A corner of Oliver's mouth lifted. „Fear not, my friend. As you well know, I've sent my father's assets soaring. I merely intend to transfer the sum to some workmen I've hired. I'm investing in a business undertaking of Felicity's."

„That's quite a vast amount to contribute to workmen. What is this undertaking?"

„My kindhearted wife plans to supervise the installation of a new roof on her village schoolhouse, one that will sustain the winter. Then, come spring, she intends to finance the construction of a whole new schoolhouse. As you can see," Oliver indicated Starling's classroom with a grand sweep of his arm, „education for those who can't afford it means a great deal to Felicity. The reason I need the bank draft now is that my impatient duchess is determined to begin overseeing the new roof's installation within the week."

„How benevolent of her _and_ of you." Diggle regarded him pensively. „It is rare to see such generosity."

Oliver shrugged, wincing a bit at the resulting stab of pain that shot through his shoulder, alerting him to the fact that he had overtaxed the wound after all. „I enjoy helping those who cannot help themselves. It gives purpose to the hell I endured." He returned to his reading.

„Are you in discomfort?"

„Pardon me?"

„I asked if you were in discomfort. Your arm seems to be causing you some trouble." Diggle gestured to where Oliver was absently rubbing his shoulder.

„Oh, no, not really. I helped carry in that large desk," Oliver lied swiftly, pointing with his opposite hand. „I must have strained myself."

„I see." Diggle waited only until Oliver resumed scanning Colby's documents before he began strolling nonchalantly about the classroom. „As I was saying, your generosity is admirable. Rarely does one see that type of behavior, except, of course, from the Green Arrow Bandit." A pause. „Speaking of which, did you happen to read of that cunning thief's latest escapade? He made off with a fortune of the Viscount Benchley's jewels and silver. And in the midst of the Christmas party you have abandoned, no less. Of course, the reckless fellow was nearly apprehended. Something about a bullet grazing his shoulder."

Oliver lowered the page he'd been perusing. „Yes, I recall reading about the incident in the Times while I was convalescing."

„Convalescing? Oh, from your illness, you mean."

„Diggle," Oliver's eyes narrowed. „What are you getting at?"

„I? Why nothing. Only that I must admit to having felt some degree of relief that the scoundrel escaped. I must be getting soft."

„Indeed."

Diggle fingered one of the drapes, intently studying its intricate pattern. „Were I advising the bandit, I might point out that he is tempting the odds in a most foolish manner. I might suggest that he appraise his assets. And I don't mean his financial ones. I might even recommend that, having realized all that is truly his, he finds some other way to accomplish his purpose, without jeopardizing his freedom, perhaps his very life. And, with a little bit of luck, I might just get through to him." Sighing, Diggle dropped the drape. „Pity I don't know the fellow."

„Yes, isn't it." At this point, Oliver had abandoned all pretense of reading. „Diggle ..."

„Do you know, I've just remembered an appointment I have in Town," the solicitor interrupted. He shook his head in apparent disgust, closing his portfolio and heading toward the door. „I don't know what is happening to my memory these days. Why, I seem to forget things in the blink of an eye." He halted, turning to regard Oliver quizzically. „What was it we were discussing?" He shrugged. „You see? It's already left me. Ah well, I suppose it wasn't important. Was it, Dearden?" Boldly, he met Oliver's gaze.

A slow smile curved Oliver's lips. „No, my friend, I don't believe it was."

„Good." Diggle gripped the door handle. „Take your time reviewing those papers, by the way. We'll schedule another meeting early next week." A flicker of humor. „Before you begin the sensible, charitable venture of installing the schoolhouse roof."


	22. Chapter 21

**Chapter 21**

„Langley, are you certain no visitors have arrived at Starling this morning?"

„None, Your Grace," Langley assured Felicity, gloved hands clasped behind his back.

Shifting impatiently, Felicity chewed her lip. „I sent the missives to Mama and the vicar more than four days ago. „It is the fifth day, and it's nearly noon. Where on earth could they be?" She inclined her head. „Possibly you didn't hear their carriage?"

„Most unlikely, Madam, given that I've not left the entrance way since shortly after dawn." Felicity blinked. „Whyever not?"

„With all due respect, Your Grace, I haven't had the opportunity. I've been surveying the drive for approaching guests since your first request at sunrise."

„Oh, Langley, I apologize." Felicity was torn somewhere between laughter and embarrassment. „I've abused you shamefully. Please, go enjoy some of Cook's wonderful scones and a cup of tea. I'll take up the vigil."

„Indeed you will not, Madam," the butler countered emphatically. „His Grace left strict instructions that, given the delicacy of your health, you were not to take part in your customary ritual of assisting the staff."

„The delicacy of my health?" Felicity echoed. „I'm carrying a child, Langley, not a fatal illness."

Langley flushed at the forthright referral to her pregnancy. „I'm only following orders, Your Grace."

„Oh, for heaven's sake." Felicity rolled her eyes. „Very well. I'll have Cook bring you some refreshment."

„That would be greatly appreciated. In the interim, I shall continue scrutinizing the entrance way. Should either your mother or the vicar arrive, you can be sure I will locate you at once."

„Thank you, Langley." Felicity gave him a grateful smile, then headed down to the kitchen.

Cook scowled when she saw Felicity. „Out, Your Grace," she commanded, mincing no words. „The duke left strict orders."

„I know. I know. I'm not to lift a finger owing to my delicate condition." Felicity sighed. „Well, fret not. I've merely come to request that you provide Langley with some sustenance. The poor man has been keeping vigil at the front door for over five hours. If he doesn't eat something soon, he will probably swoon."

As soon as she realized Felicity was going to abide by the duke's demands, Cook relaxed, filling a plate with warm scones, and readying a pot of tea. „You should eat a bit of this yourself, ma'am. You scarcely touched your breakfast."

Felicity's stomach lurched. „No, thank you, Cook."

„You need to keep up your strength, and the babe's. Here." She handed Felicity a plate containing two of the flaky treats. „At least eat these." Clucking away Felicity's protests, she shooed her from the kitchen, plate in hand.

Making her way down the hall, Felicity searched for a discreet spot in which to deposit her unwanted aromatic snack. At the same time, she tried desperately to hold her breath, certain that to inhale would be disastrous at that moment. With each step she became more convinced her plight was futile.

„Oh! Pardon me, ma'am." Mary, the head gardener's youngest daughter, scooted out of the schoolroom just as Felicity passed by. The girl came to a screeching halt, just brushing the full skirt of Felicity's gown. „Forgive me, Your Grace. I didn't see you."

Waves of nausea were undulating through Felicity's system. „Mary. No apology is necessary." She swallowed.

The awkward twelve-year-old blanched as she saw Felicity's distressed expression. „I just finished my lessons. I didn't know you were out here." Slowly, she backed away. „I didn't mean to bump into you."

„You didn't." Despite her unsettled state, Felicity realized she had to convince Mary she had done nothing wrong. „Mary … here." Abruptly, she thrust the dish of scones at the startled child. „Cook made extra. Enjoy them."

„Why, thank you, ma'am." Tentatively, Mary smiled. „I ..."

Felicity never heard the rest. In a flash, she bolted, racing past the schoolroom to the nearby water closet Oliver had just had installed.

She'd eaten nothing that day, yet her body seemed not to know that, heaving again and again in protest. At last the retching stopped, and Felicity sank weakly to her knees, leaning her head against the cool surface of the wall.

„Try this. It will help."

From the open doorway, Sarah handed Felicity a cold compress. „Place it against your forehead and stay still for a minute or two. The feeling will pass."

Gratefully, Felicity took the cloth, pressing it to her overheated face.

„That's it. Now take deep breaths and relax."

The queasiness vanished as abruptly as it had arrived. Lifting her head, Felicity blinked. „The sensation is gone."

Sarah gave her a wry grin. „Not to worry. It will visit again. As early as tomorrow, perhaps." She reached out, helping Felicity to her feet. "Come into the classroom and sit down. You haven't eaten breakfast, have you?" she guessed, guiding Felicity from the water closet into the sunlit chamber beside it.

Blinking in surprise, Felicity shook her head.

„I suspected as much. You're more apt to be ill when your stomach is empty. Eat simple foods, but never neglect your meals, even if you aren't especially hungry," Sarah advised.

„Is the cause of my sickness so obvious?" Felicity asked, settling herself in a chair.

„Only to those who have endured it. I saw the greenish cast to your complexion when you dashed into the water closet. I've worn a similar one these past weeks."

„I suppose that makes sense," Felicity murmured with a twinge of disappointment.

„Why? Did you wish to keep your condition a secret?"

„Oh, no." She smiled faintly. „Not that I could if I chose to. The entire staff has been alerted by my anxious husband. But, in your case, well … I did hope to tell you myself."

„And why is that?" Sarah asked curiously.

"" you and I are connected in an intangible way. We seem destined to repeatedly touch each other's lives. First at the House of Eternal Hope, then at Benchley, and now here, both of us carrying our first babes. It is silly, perhaps, but I suspect fate is guiding us along parallel paths. For our sakes, and for our children's." Felicity smiled. „Somehow it comforts me to know that we are both bringing new lives into the world at the same time."

„Thank you," Sarah replied, visibly moved. „That's a lovely thought."

„It is an honest one." Felicity studied Sarah's face. „Are you happy at Starling?"

„Oh, yes." Felicity's eyes glowed. „I never realized how much I would enjoy teaching children until you and the duke offered me the opportunity to do so. To be given a chance, without censure or scorn ..." Sarah paused. „I wonder if you can imagine what that means to me."

„I can and I do." Felicity inclined her head. „But I wish you would realize how very much you give others in return. Not only the children, who have come alive after mere days of your teaching, but me." Rubbing the folds of her gown between her fingers, Felicity added, „My father is a horrible man, Sarah, as I'm sure you recall. I've never been allowed companionship. Father even forbade me to visit our local vicar, who is truly my only friend. Having another woman to laugh with, to chat with, to share confidences with … that would be miraculous. Would you consider such a friendship?"

„You're asking me to befriend you?"

„Is that so astonishing?" Felicity asked with a quizzical expression.

„In all candor, Your Grace, we have nothing in common."

„I beg to differ with you. In my opinion, we have everything in common. All but our social position, which is a mere accident of fate. I invite you to name another disparity between us."

A flicker of a smile. „You win." The smile faded, and Sarah lowered her gaze, carefully weighing her next words. „I would like to be your friend, truly I would. But frankly, I'm not certain I'd know how. I've never shared laughter or confidences with anyone."

„Perhaps you've never met someone worthy enough to share them with."

A sad smile. „I don't easily accept people into my heart. And truthfully, no one's ever taken me into theirs."

„Not even James?" Felicity questioned softly.

„James." A film of tears veiled Sarah's eyes, and she quickly brushed them away. „I suppose he was the exception. But when it truly mattered, the feelings between us weren't strong enough."

„Are you sure?"

„Quite sure. He turned sheet white when I told him I was with child. Then he muttered something about needing to think. That was the last time I saw him."

„Perhaps he was dazed. The reality of becoming a father, especially since it was unanticipated, must have left him reeling."

„Unanticipated,2 Sarah echoed. „I suppose it was. But, as I told you at Benchley, he made his intentions clear from the onset of our involvement. His restless spirit would not be tamed, nor would his independence be compromised."

„Did he love you?"

„In his way, yes."

„Did he tell you so?"

Again, a sad flicker of memory. „On occasion, yes."

„Sarah." Felicity rose to her feet. „Does James know where to find you?"

Sarah turned away. „Don't you understand, Your Grace. He doesn't want to find me."

„My name is Felicity, and that doesn't answer my question."

„No … Felicity. He has no idea where to find me. Unless, of course, he inquired at Black's, the tavern in London where we met. When I accepted the position as a serving maid and left for Benchley, I provided Black's tavern keeper with the location of my new residence."

„I see." Felicity ingested that thoughtfully. She wanted to inquire further, but refrained, sensing Sarah's reticence. Moreover, an idea was forming in her mind, and she was impatient to find Oliver to explore it. „Well," she cleared her throat, „I'd best make certain Langley has eaten some of Cook's scones." A grin. „I'm sure his reaction to them was more flattering than mine."

Sarah snapped out of her reverie. „First go to the kitchen and fetch some weak tea and a bland biscuit. And eat them. Else you'll spend the day either swooning or retching."

„You've convinced me," Felicity laughed. „And Sarah? Please consider my offer. I'd be proud to call you my friend."

A hesitant nod. „Thank you … Felicity."

With a warm inner glow, Felicity closed the door behind her, more determined than ever to carry out her plan.

„Langley!" She hastened to the entrance way.

The butler gave a tolerant sigh. „No sign of them yet, Your Grace."

„I didn't intend to pester you again," Felicity assured him. „I just wanted to make certain you'd eaten."

„I have. Three scones and two cups of tea. I'm now strong enough to continue my vigil well past noon."

„You're a treasure, Langley. Thank you."

„My pleasure, Madam."

„Have you any idea where Oliver is?"

„I believe the duke is in his study, Your Grace. He said something about writing out final instructions for the workmen."

„Excellent. I'll find him." Felicity took three steps, then swayed, blinking to clear her head. „Langley, would you mind asking Cook to send a pot of weak tea and some plain biscuits into Oliver's study?"

„Not at all. I'll see to it at once." Langley frowned. „However, first I shall assist you in the study. You're looking far too peaked to manage on your own."

For once Felicity agreed, grateful for Langley's arm as she made her way down the corridor.

„Come in," Oliver responded to the knock.

„Forgive me, Your Grace," Langley began. „But the duchess ..."

„Felicity." Oliver was on his feet before the butler finished, crossing the room to wrap his arm about Felicity's waist. Anxiously, he took in the pallor of her skin. „What is it?"

„Nothing," she assured him. „I just foolishly skipped breakfast. Langley has kindly offered to arrange for Cook to bring me some food."

„I'm on my way, sir," the butler confirmed, hurrying off.

Oliver scooped Felicity up and carried her over to a tufted chair. He started to put her down, then changed his mind, turning abruptly and seating himself, his wife clasped tightly to his chest. „Now I can make certain you stay put. Damn it, Snow flame, what am I to do with you?"

„The answers to that question are limitless," she teased, snuggling against him. „A fact you yourself taught me. I'm fine," she added, smoothing the lines of worry from his face. „Merely in need of nourishment."

„I'll feed you myself. Then I'm taking you to your bed chamber where you are going to indulge in a nap. You've been pacing since dawn."

„I'm eager to see if anything has occurred between Mama and the vicar."

„Langley and I will send for you the moment they arrive. Won't we, Langley?" Oliver questioned pointedly as the butler re-entered, tray in hand.

„Most definitely, Your Grace." Langley flushed a bit when he saw Felicity curled in Oliver's lap, but he said nothing further, merely placing the food on the nearby table. „Will there be anything else, sir?"

„No. Thank you."

„My pleasure. Now, if you'll excuse me, I must resume my watch." The slightest flicker of amusement. „A dedicated sentry never deserts his post."

The door closed behind him.

There was a full moment of silence before Felicity turned incredulous eyes to her husband. „Did Langley just make a jest?"

A rumble of laughter erupted from Oliver's chest. „Yes, Snow flame, I believe he did. He also scarcely blushed upon finding you in my arms. It appears our Langley is thawing. Why, by next month I fully expect him to unclasp his hands from behind his back when I enter a room." Still chuckling, Oliver leaned forward to scoop a biscuit off the plate. „Eat," he commanded, bringing it to Felicity's lips.

„Yes, Your Grace." She gave him a mock salute, then complied. „Oliver, I want to discuss something with ..."

„Not until at least two of those biscuits are gone," he interrupted. „And just as many cups of tea."

„Very well." Dutifully, Felicity chewed, amazed to find that Sarah was right. A bit of the right food made all the difference. „I feel wonderful," she announced a quarter hour later.

„Good. Then it's time to have your nap."

„Wait." Felicity lay a restraining hand on Oliver's arm. „Before you relegate me to my bed, you promised to hear what was on my mind."

„Yes I did, didn't I?" Sighing, Oliver resettled himself. „All right, Snow flame, I'm listening."

„It's about Sarah. Oliver, she misses James so much. And the way she speaks of him, I'm certain they were deeply in love."

„Yet he deserted her when he found out she was with child." Oliver's jaw set. „You know how little use I have for that type of abandonment."

„I know." Felicity caressed his nape. „But suppose James has had a change of heart? Suppose he's realized how unfeeling he was, and how much he misses Sarah?"

„What are you getting at?"

„Sarah told me that when she left Black's, the London pub in which she worked prior to Benchley, she gave them her forwarding address. But that address is no longer valid. Nor has Viscount Benchley any clue that Sarah is currently employed at Starling."

„Viscount Benchley?" Oliver gave a hollow laugh. „That bastard wouldn't assist James if he did know Sarah's whereabouts. Provide information to a common man? Inconceivable!"

„Then you'll help me?"

„Help you do what? I won't coerce the man to claim his child. If he hasn't the character to do so on his own, then Sarah is better off without him."

„Yes she is," Felicity concurred. „I'd never ask you to do that. All I ask is that you send one of your numerous contacts to Black's to leave word where Sarah can be reached. This way, if James does have honorable intentions, he can carry them out."

„Fair enough."

„And one thing more." Felicity raised appealing eyes to her husband. „If James should come forward, can we find a position for him here at Starling? Sarah is so happy here. The children adore her and so do I. I want her to stay."

„Done." Oliver ran his knuckles over Felicity's cheek. „How can so delicate a woman have so tremendous a heart?"

She kissed his fingertips. „To be worthy of your love, it could be no other way."

Scurrying footsteps from the hallway reached their ears, followed by the distinct sound of horses' hooves.

„Your Grace." Langley knocked purposefully. „An approaching carriage."

Felicity leapt off Oliver's lap and flung open the door. „Is it Mama and the vicar?"

Langley blinked. „I'm not certain. I raced here the moment I saw the carriage appear. It was too far off for me to discern its occupants."

„Then let's do so together." She turned to Oliver, who had come to his feet and joined them. „My nap will have to wait."

„A short while," he conceded.

Felicity reached the entrance way just in time to see Lance assist her mother from the carriage. „Welcome, you two. At last."

With a look of immense pride, Donna hurried forward to embrace her daughter. „Oh Felicity, I can't believe it. A babe." She cupped Felicity's face, carefully scrutinizing her. „You look wonderful. A bit peaked, perhaps, but glowing and happy."

„As do you." Felicity returned her mother's inspection, amazed to see that, having shed her lines of suffering, Donna looked a good ten years younger than she had just weeks ago.

„Your missive said you've been feeling poorly," Donna murmured anxiously. „Is it severe?"

„Erratic. And sudden. The sickness and the lightheadedness strike abruptly, and disappear in the blink of an eye. In between, I feel splendid."

„Well, I'm glad you sent for me. For us," she added, smiling at the vicar.

„Snowdrop." Lance took Felicity's hands in his. „I'm delighted. May your child be blessed with good health and joy. He's already blessed with two extraordinary parents who will love him or her with all their hearts."

„Oh, Vicar, I'm so glad you're both here." Felicity hugged him. „I've been awaiting your arrival for days."

„I had to properly decorate the manor at Rutland before leaving," Donna explained. „Since I plan to spend Christmas with you, I wanted the staff to have their own festivities. They've all been so good to me." She grinned. „I confess, we arrived at Starling nearly an hour ago, but a friend of yours detained us."

„A friend?"

„Yes. He watched us from a safe distance as we drove through the gates, but evidently he recognized me and approached the roadside, staring hopefully. I couldn't disappoint him, especially not during so joyous an occasion as the celebration of my forthcoming grandchild. So I had Quentin stop before we even sighted the manor. Your friend is now feasting on Rutland's wild strawberries and blackberries, which I had originally intended to become a pie."

Felicity rolled her eyes. „Flash knows precisely who will indulge him, Mama. Doubtless, he is enthralled by your arrival."

„As if you don't spoil him," Oliver commented dryly. „That fox eats more than I do." He kissed Donna's hand. „We're even more pleased than Flash to welcome you."

„For different reasons, I hope," she teased back.

Slipping unobtrusively by them, Langley assessed the number of bags in the carriage.

„Mama, I'm sure you remember Langley from your previous stay." Felicity tugged him forward proudly. „He is an indispensable member of our family."

„How are you, Langley?"

The butler swallowed several times before replying. „Well, my lady."

On the heels of his greeting he bowed, but not before Felicity detected the uncustomary expression of emotion on his face.

„You've also met Mr. Lance," she reminded him gently.

„Good to see you again, Langley," the vicar acknowledged.

„Welcome, sir." Another bow, after which Langley straightened, fully composed. „If you'll excuse me, I'll summon some footmen to carry in your bags."

The vicar stared after Langley's retreating form. „You've rendered your magic again, Snowdrop."

Felicity's delicate brows drew together. „What do you mean?"

„Magic made all the more beautiful by its inherent existence and unconscious offering," Oliver noted aloud, his expression tender.

„Indeed," Lance concurred.

„What are the two of you mumbling about?" Felicity demanded.

„Nothing, Snow flame." Oliver tucked her arm through his. „Shall we take our guests on a tour? This is, in a way, both your mother and the vicar's first real visits to Starling. Your mother's previous stay was a scant day and a half spent in hiding. As for the vicar, the evening he came to dinner we'd scarcely finished dessert before you brought the visit to a rapid close by fainting." Oliver grinned at Lance. „As you can guess, we've since deduced the cause of Felicity's swoon."

„Indeed. Your forthcoming heir was announcing his creation."

„A tour sounds lovely." Donna cast a worried look at Felicity.

„Are you certain you're up to it, darling?"

„I'm fine, Mama. Truly."

„Felicity will be with us only for the first few minutes," Oliver stated in a voice that defied argument. „We'll begin with the room Felicity takes the greatest pride in … our new schoolroom. After that, we'll move to the second floor, at which point we will escort Felicity to her bed chamber for a much-needed nap. Agreed, Snow flame?"

„Have I any choice?"

„None."

The sun was an orange haze in the west when Donna carried a tray into Felicity's room. „Are you awake, dear?" she asked, approaching the bed.

Felicity stretched and sat up. „Goodness! What time is it?"

„Half after four. You were exhausted." Donna placed the tray on the nightstand and lowered herself to the edge of the bed. „And now you must be famished. I've brought you some plain broth, a bit of chicken, and fresh-baked bread."

„It sounds heavenly." Felicity took the tray and began eating voraciously. „I cannot imagine why I'm so hungry," she managed, between mouthfuls.

„You're eating for two now. It is natural to require more."

Require more.

Donna's phrase recalled Felicity's original purpose in sending for her mother.

Thoughtfully, she laid down her fork. „Mama, do you remember the morning I confided Oliver's proposal to you?"

„Of course."

„You said some things to me … things that implied you'd experienced a situation in which you allowed your heart to be silenced, and that you now regretted that decision. Do you recall?"

Donna lowered her gaze, stroked the edge of the bed covers. „Yes, I recall."

„It is none of my business, but I must ask you anyway. Did that situation involve Mr. Lance?"

Startled, Donna's gaze lifted. „How did you know?"

„I didn't. Oliver guessed. He's an incredibly insightful man." Felicity leaned forward. „Did you love him, Mama?"

A painful nod. „Yes. Very much."

„And he loved you." Felicity needed no confirmation. „What happened? Why did you marry Father? How could you ..." She broke off.

„How could I choose a hateful man like your father over a fine man like Quentin?" Donna sighed, staring off into space. „I wonder if you know how many times I've asked myself that over the years. Perhaps the Lord meant it to be this way so I might bring you into the world."

„Thank you," Felicity whispered. „But that's not an answer. When you wed Father you had no notion what children the marriage might produce. So why?"

Slowly, Donna rose, went to stand by the window. „I was fifteen when I met Quentin He was three and twenty. There was a small gathering in our village to honor the new parish church. I attended with my parents. He was present, not as an established official, but as a young clergyman who was deeply committed to people and to God. I believe we fell in love the instant we met." A pause. „Unfortunately, my parents had no intention of allowing their only daughter to throw her life away on a poor vicar whose ambitions were rooted in ideals rather than gold. If Quentin had been willing to further himself through the right channels, if he'd been seeking a future as a high-ranking Church official, then, perhaps they would have reconsidered. But he wasn't, and they didn't. Your father was introduced to me the next summer, during my first London Season. He was wealthy, titled, and successful. He asked for my hand; my father gave it."

„But what about the vicar?"

„Quentin held me while I cried, soothed me when I confessed my fear of defying my parents. And then he let me go." Donna dabbed at her eyes. "It was the single most selfless gesture I've ever seen."

Felicity swallowed past the lump in her throat. „Had the two of you plans to marry?"

„Without question. We'd spent hours visualizing our life together: the cottage we'd share, filled with our children; the gardens we'd plant, flourishing with yellow roses. Yellow roses," Donna's voice quavered, „were Quentin's special gift to me. He brought a bouquet of them each time he visited. They came to signify the beauty of our love."

Another reality struck. Raising her left hand, Felicity studied the delicate scrap of silver adorning her fourth finger. „This ring, the one the vicar bestowed upon us so Oliver and I might seal our vows ..."

Donna's smile was tremulous. „That was Quentin's sensitive way of passing on the miracle of our love. Whatever we were denied, he prayed God would grant you and Oliver."

„Oh, Mama. Then initially he intended it for you."

„Yes." A choked sound. „Felicity, I loved him deeply, as he did me. But I just couldn't … I wasn't strong enough." Donna buried her face in her hands.

„I'm so sorry." Felicity slipped off the bed and went to her mother, embracing her as if to absorb her pain.

„I shouldn't be crying. It was so long ago."

„But it wasn't. You love him still. And he loves you."

Silence. Then, Donna raised her head, dashing tears from her cheeks. "" feelings never alter, I suppose, no matter how much better it would be for everyone if they would. You're right. Quentin's and my love has never faded. But neither have the restrictions that for more than a score of years have kept us apart. I was, and continue to be, Malcolm's wife."

„Once, perhaps," Felicity amended. "" now? You're Father's wife in name alone. You're no longer even living in his house."

„That doesn't change the fact that he and I exchanged vows. And neither Quentin nor I will cheapen our love by betraying those vows. In the sight of God and man, I belong to Malcom."

„Not if Oliver has his way."

Donna sighed. „I see your husband has told you of his improbable plans for my future."

„Rest assured, Mama. With Oliver, nothing is improbable. He has the most incredible way of making the impossible possible. And he is determined to procure this divorce for you. So please don't lose faith."

A small spark of hope flickered in Donna's eyes. „How can I? Oliver is not the only one who is certain he can accomplish this unlikely feat. Quentin is equally confident. Between Oliver's belief in himself and Quentin's belief in Oliver, it is hard to remain a skeptic."

„And in the meantime ..." Felicity seized her mother's hands. „You are happy, aren't you Mama? I can see it all over your face. You're away from Father's brutality, safe and secure at Rutland." A teasing light came into her eyes. „Where, I understand, the vicar has been paying you visits."

Donna's glow was like a schoolgirl's. „Yes, he has. He stays but a few minutes, and all we do is chat. But the magic is still there. Just as it was all those years ago." A reluctant blush stained her cheeks. „He brings a bouquet of yellow roses each time he calls."

„How romantic! Nearly as romantic as the fact that, after more than twenty years, Mr. Lance has found no other woman on whom he chooses to bestow his heart. It is still you, just as it always has been, and always will be."

Donna smiled at her daughter's words. "" never thought I'd hear you extolling the virtues of love, growing up the way you did. I suppose my greatest fear was that you'd never trust a man enough to care. But all that has changed now, hasn't it?"

„Totally."

„I'm glad," Donna said with understated simplicity. She cupped Felicity's chin. „Being in love becomes you. So does prospective motherhood. I won't ask if Oliver is everything you hoped he'd be."

„Everything … and more," Felicity responded, grinning privately as she contemplated the unexpected exhilaration that had accompanied her marriage, things her mother could never fathom. The heart-stopping beauty of Oliver's lovemaking, the breathless daring of spending her life with the Green Arrow Bandit, and, as she had to honestly admit, the incomparable thrill of robbing by his side.

Everything Oliver had promised the day he proposed had come to pass, Felicity realized with a flash of awed insight. He'd vowed to release her from the prison of her life, and that meant far more than wresting her from her father's brutal hands.

It meant … and she could still hear Oliver's words, fervently whispered in the woods at Merlyn as he'd enumerated all her facets he intended to free … _Your magnificent spirit, your fire, your innocence, your passion. All of you_.

Well, he had succeeded. Sometime over the past two months, Felicity Merlyn had blossomed into Felicity Dearden.

„You're lost in thought," Donna murmured, bringing Felicity back to the present. „And with a most captivating smile on your face. What are you pondering?"

„Oliver," Felicity whispered, her voice hushed with emotion. „He's freed me, Mama, precisely as he vowed." Automatically, her palm shifted to her abdomen. „And, with God's help, this babe and I will free him as well."


	23. Chapter 22

**Chapter 22**

„Now remember the promise I coerced from you last week," Oliver cautioned, buttoning his shirt.

„Promises," Felicity amended with a twinkle. „And I'm certain you won't let me forget a single one." She crossed the bed chamber, reaching up to complete her husband's task. „I recall every word," she added hastily, seeing Oliver's angry scowl. „I'll stay far away from the schoolhouse while the roof is constructed, remain in my makeshift seat, and call you if I need anything at all. How's that?" She smoothed the shirt with her hand.

„The shirt is fine. I wish I were nearly as confident of the promises. Had I not said you could come ..."

„But you did. Besides, involving the children in this project was my idea. I'd be devastated if I weren't permitted to watch. Please, Oliver, I won't endanger either myself or the babe. You have my word. I'll make no attempt to help. Why, I won't even approach the cart holding the slate and the wood. I'll just sit sedately by and observe the children's joyous faces. All right?"

A sigh. „All right." He scooped up his coat. „Let's go have some breakfast. The workmen won't be arriving at the schoolhouse for several hours, and you're not leaving Starling unless you've put something in your stomach."

„I ate a piece of dry toast before I stepped out of bed," Felicity protested.

„That was four hours ago. Cook was advised to prepare a light mid-morning meal, suitable for expectant mothers. So stop arguing, and join me in the dining room."

„Very well." Reluctantly, Felicity nodded. „Although if we're late ..."

„We won't be."

Rounding the second-floor landing, Oliver guided Felicity down the staircase. Halfway, she paused, nudging him and gesturing toward the foot of the steps. He followed her gaze, grinning as he saw the object of his wife's scrutiny.

Standing in the alcove, oblivious to the servants scurrying by them, were Donna and Lance. They were absorbed in quiet conversation broken by an occasional wash of muted laughter. And, though nearly a foot of space separated them, the affection hovering between them was a palpable entity no distance could negate.

„I'd best find the time to travel to London and meet with Colby, that barrister Diggle's engaged," Oliver muttered for his wife's ears alone. His lips twitched. „My infallible instincts tell me we'd be wise to expedite the divorce process."

„In this case your instincts are wasted," Felicity returned, tender amusement sparkling on her face. „Your eyes alone could tell you as much."

„Indeed." Oliver tucked Felicity's arm through his. „I almost hate to intrude."

„Good morning, you two." Donna chose that moment to look up, smiling warmly as she greeted them. „We've been waiting for you. Cook's clucking has gotten louder and louder. Evidently, our meal is getting cold. So let's dash in and eat. Then we can all leave together for the schoolhouse."

„You're accompanying us, Mama?" Felicity blinked in surprise.

„Well, of course." Donna met Felicity's gaze, her own pervaded by an inner peace until now unknown. „These past years I've been able to offer you assistance in only the most covert ways. Your cause means as much to me as it does to you. I relish the thought of translating my feelings into something more tangible, something that can truly help the children. Moreover," she exchanged a teasing look with Oliver, „who else would ensure that you behave, if not I?"

„Mama…"

Lance beamed. „I wouldn't dream of trying to dissuade your mother, Snowdrop. I haven't seen her so determined in twenty two years."

„I have no intention of dissuading her," Felicity replied, seeing beyond her mother's quip to the significance of her transformation. „Welcome, Mama." Hugging Donna, she whispered, „Evidently, I'm not the only Merlyn woman who's been released from prison."

„Evidently not."

Felicity seized her mother's hand. „Come. I suddenly find myself ravenously hungry."

A quarter hour later a knock sounded, interrupting their meal. Felicity glanced quizzically at Oliver. „Are you expecting anyone?"

„No." He broke into his second teacake. „Whoever it is, Langley will handle it."

A moment later, the butler entered the dining room. „Pardon me, Your Grace. I hate to interrupt your meal, but you did ask me to advise you if a Mr. James Chapman should arrive. Well, the gentleman in question is in the hallway."

Before Langley had completed his announcement, Felicity's bowl of fresh raspberries had been abandoned. Like a bullet, she came to her feet. „James? Is that Sarah's ..."

„Yes." Oliver rose as well, frowning at his wife's unchecked ebullience. „Felicity, please, let me handle this. We still don't know precisely why Mr. Chapman is here."

Felicity bit back her reply, forcing herself to remember why Oliver's attitude toward James was so severe. Having endured his own father's abandonment, Oliver was staunchly trying to protect Sarah from getting hurt.

„What did Mr. Chapman say, Langley?" Oliver was questioning.

„He asked to see Miss Sarah, sir."

„Did he?" Tossing his napkin to the table, Oliver headed for the door. „First, he shall see me. After which I'll decide whether or not to tell Sarah of his arrival."

„I'm going with you."

Restraint casted aside, Felicity followed Oliver's path, raising her chin as her husband turned to confront her.

„I know you don't believe I'm objective," she told him quietly. „And perhaps you're correct. But, Oliver, you are no more objective than I. And, since our inclinations in this case lead us to draw opposite conclusions, and since we both care about Sarah's future and the future of her babe, I believe we should both be present to hear what James has to say."

For an instant, Oliver hesitated.

„It is you who created this forthright wife," Felicity murmured. „Did you not encourage me to emerge from my stifling cocoon?"

Pride warred with frustration and won. „Yes, Snow flame, I did," Oliver conceded. „Very well, then." He extended his arm. „Shall we meet with Mr. Chapman?"

Never had Felicity felt more proud … or more loved. „Yes. At once."

James was pacing the length of the entrance way. When he saw Felicity and Oliver approach, he halted, hat clutched nervously in his hands.

„Mr. Chapman?" Oliver opened.

„Yes, sir. Are you the Duke of Starling?"

A nod. „I'm Oliver Dearden. This is my wife, Felicity."

„Mr. Chapman," Felicity acknowledged. He was much as she'd expected: tall and dark, with sharp, intelligent features, not classically handsome but overwhelmingly charismatic. „I assume, from your arrival at Starling, that the tavern keeper at Black's advised you of Sarah's whereabouts." She waited.

His reaction was immediate. „Then she is here?"

„Yes, she's here."

„Thanks the lord." James raked his fingers through his hair. „I've been combing London for her, stopping at every pub and coffeehouse I pass."

„Really?" Oliver tapped his chin thoughtfully. „What made you think she was in London?"

„At first, I didn't. Originally, that fellow at Black's gave me the address of some big country estate. Said she'd left Black's to take a better job as a maid." He frowned, rubbing the brim of his hat. „Well, I went there … Benchley, it was called … and the Viscount slammed the door in my face after curtly declaring that no one by the name of Sarah Cooke had ever worked at his estate."

Oliver's jaw tightened fractionally but he said nothing.

„Anyway, I thought maybe Sarah had purposely left a phony address at Black's to mislead me. So I returned to London, and my search."

„Why would Sarah intentionally mislead you?" Oliver prompted.

„Because she might not want me to find her." James averted his head. „The last time we saw each other she was terribly angry. And with good reason."

„Really? What reason was that?"

James stiffened. „With all due respect, Your Grace, Sarah's and my relationship is between the two of us. I don't want to jeopardize her job at Starling, whatever that is, but I won't stand here and discuss our arguments with you either. I presume you left that note at Black's supplying me with Sarah's true whereabouts so I could find her. Well, I'm here. And, if you'll forgive my impertinence, I'd like to see her now."

„Why?"

Even Felicity started at Oliver's sharp tone.

„Why?" James repeated.

„Precisely. Why? Is it because of her new, elevated position?"

James gaped. „I don't even know what the hell she does here."

„She teaches children. Damned well, by the way. Her position, incidentally, pays quite a bit better than the one at Black's did."

„Is that supposed to mean something to me?"

„I don't know. Does it?"

„No. I don't want her bloody money. I want her." James inhaled sharply. „Look, I don't know what Sarah's told you. But I'll be frank. When Sarah and I parted, I didn't deserve her or her love. As of now, I intend to change that. I'm not a poor man, Your Grace, only a restless one. I've been trained as a clerk. I've apprenticed under several fine solicitors over the years and accumulated a respectable sum of money and good credentials. I intend to open my own soliciting offices in whatever town Sarah chooses. Then I intend to make her my wife."

„I see." Oliver cleared his throat. „Mr. Chapman, I realize I'm being harsh and intrusive. I agree that your situation with Sarah is your business and no one else's. But Sarah is a much valued member of my household. Consequently, I do not want her hurt or upset."

„Neither do I. In the name of heaven, she's carrying my ..." James broke off abruptly.

„We know about the babe, Mr. Chapman," Felicity said quietly. „That's one of the reasons we're being so protective." With unbiased compassion, Felicity took in the dark circles beneath his eyes, the lines of suffering about his mouth. Then she turned to Oliver. „I think we should send for Sarah."

Oliver inclined his head, his gaze meeting his wife's.

„My exceptional instincts," she said softly, simply. „Please. This time particular, heed them."

The tension drained slowly from Oliver's taut frame. „All right, Snow flame," he concurred. Then he looked about, calling, „Langley."

„Yes, sir?" The butler hastened to their side.

„Please summon Miss Sarah. Tell her she has a visitor."

„Very good, sir."

„Thank you, Your Grace," James murmured gratefully. „You won't regret it."

„No, I don't believe I will. As for thanks, thank my wife. In the end, it appears she was far more objective than I." Oliver studied James thoughtfully. „You're a lucky man, Chapman. My advice is that you never again wager so invaluable an asset as the woman you love." With that, Oliver retraced his steps to the dining room.

Felicity and James stared after him. Then, Felicity turned back to their guest. „I agree, Mr. Chapman. Savor this opportunity to regain Sarah's love. It is the last chance you'll be given."

„Felicity?" Sarah's voice interrupted whatever James had been about to reply. „I'm in the midst of lessons. Is there some ..." She halted, all the color draining from her face. „James."

Tactfully, Felicity moved off. „If you'll excuse me, I'll rejoin my husband for breakfast." She gave Sarah a reassuring smile. „Should you need me, you know where I'll be."

„Your Grace?"

Felicity was halfway down the hall when she heard James summon her. She paused, glancing over her shoulder. „Yes?"

Sarah's hand was clutched tightly in his. „You have my unending gratitude," he called. „You and your husband."

Even from a distance, Felicity could see the joy trembling on Sarah's lips. „Be happy, both of you," she returned warmly. Her lips curved. „All three of you."

Light of heart, Felicity strolled into the dining room. „Do you think Mr. Diggle might require an assistant?" she asked Oliver brightly as he stood to ease back her chair.

Oliver's chuckle was rich. „My thoughts exactly, Snow flame." He grew sober. „Sarah is pleased, then?"

„Elated would be a better choice of words."

„And why not? She's with the man she loves," Donna interjected, sipping her tea. Noting Felicity's questioning look, she explained.

„Oliver told us about James and the delicacy of the situation. I, for one, think it's wonderful."

Felicity clasped her husband's hand. „As do I." She gazed pointedly from her mother to the vicar. „Isn't it wondrous when fate sees fit to grant those who are deserving a second chance at happiness?"

„Yes, Snowdrop." It was the vicar who replied. „It is truly a miracle."

Oliver brought Felicity's fingers to his lips. „Tell me, do you think Chapman's restlessness can really be abated? After all, he's never stayed in one place long enough to set up his own soliciting practice, much less to build a home and support a family."

„Definitely." Felicity popped some raspberries into her mouth, her eyes alight with mischief. „Fatherhood has a way of inspiring great changes in men, wouldn't you say?"

A corner of Oliver's mouth lifted. „Indeed I would, Snow flame. Indeed I would."

Spirits were high when the Starling carriage arrived at the schoolhouse two hours later. Waiting only until Oliver had handed down her mother, Felicity practically leaped to the ground, eagerly surveying the bustling scene unfolding around her.

Workmen scurried about, calling to each other as they organized their materials and good-naturedly sidestepped the inquisitive, exuberant children. Over the clattering wood, Miss Smith's stern voice rang out, admonishing the students and demanding that they behave.

She might just as well have been ordering the wind to be still.

„I'd better assist Miss Smith," Felicity determined, exchanging amused looks with the vicar. „Else she'll have apoplexy before the construction even begins."

„Felicity!"

Having spotted her, Tommy snatched up a small box, yanking off its lid and simultaneously racing over. „I brought Speedy," he announced proudly, shoving the lizard under Felicity's nose. „I was hoping you could watch him for me while I'm working."

„I'd be delighted." Felicity was torn between chortling and retching as the thick smell of mud and grass accosted her. Breathing through her mouth, she peered closer, seeing a flash of dark green slither through the reeds.

„There he is! You see him? Isn't he great?"

„Yes, and yes." Inadvertently, Felicity inched away. „He's splendid. Only what exactly is his bed made of?"

„Oh, lots of stuff I found in the barn. Yucky stuff. Lizards like yucky stuff, especially when it's wet."

„Lizards are also notoriously shy," Oliver interjected, biting back a roar of laughter. „So why don't we put his lid back on and give him some privacy among all these strangers."

„You are right, Oliver." Instantly, Tommy covered his pet. „Felicity said she'd hold him while I'm helping the men."

„A wise idea. That way there's no chance of Speedy escaping and getting into trouble. A construction site is a very dangerous place for small creatures like lizards." Oliver raised his voice until it boomed pointedly across the grounds. „In fact, a construction site is dangerous for anyone who doesn't follow directions. Therefore, any of our helpers who can't do as they're told will spend the remainder of the day watching Felicity watch Speedy."

A round of groans.

„Good." Oliver grinned. „I see we understand each other. Now let's gather round and approach the schoolhouse safely, as a group rather than helter-skelter, like a chaotic mob. At that point the workmen can give us our instructions."

Reluctantly, the children stopped dashing about, making their way, one by one, over to Oliver.

Gazing after them, Miss Smith beamed at Oliver, her pudgy cheeks lifting into an adoring smile.

With a cough that sounded suspiciously like a smothered laugh, Lance averted his head, intently studying the men as they unloaded the last of their materials.

„Who are you?" Roy suddenly demanded, cocking his head at Donna.

„I'm Felicity's mother. My name is Donna."

„Felicity has a mother?" He looked incredulous. „But she's old."

„True." Donna's eyes sparkled with humor. „But her advanced years are a recent occurrence. She used to be about the same age as you. So she does indeed have a mother."

„You are pretty," Thea declared, hugging her new doll. „Are you a snowdrop, too?"

Donna's gaze met the vicar's. „Do you know, I believe I am." She touched the doll's bright head. „What is your name and who is your beautiful friend?"

„My name is Thea. My doll's name is Felicity." Thea's earnest little face screwed up thoughtfully. „When Felicity bought her for me, she said to give her a name that was special. So I did."

„Oh, Thea." Felicity squatted beside her, tears glistening on her lashes. „That is perhaps the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me. I'm honored. Thank you."

„I gave you my lizard to hold," Tommy protested. „That's an honor, too."

„Of course it is. What Thea did is just a different kind of honor. Right, Thea?" She gave the little girl a conspiratorial smile.

Thea smiled back. „Right."

„Mr. Lance, are we gonna be able to hoist the beams and nail the slate?" Roy questioned.

„Let's go find out." The vicar gestured for them to follow.

„I'll set up some benches for you and Donna," Oliver told Felicity. „Then I'll go give the workmen a hand." His eyes twinkled. „I'll leave you ladies to tend to Speedy."

Within the hour, the shingles were ready to go, and the heavy wooden beams soon to anchor the new roof were lying side by side on the ground. Two powerful plow horses were brought in, tossing their heads as a foreman tied one end of the thick rope to their harnesses, the other to the first beam he intended to hoist.

Oliver tugged Tommy away from the horses, then turned to roll his eyes at Felicity.

From a dozen feet away, Felicity laughed. „I wish Oliver wouldn't hold me to that silly promise," she complained to her mother. „I want to help."

„Oh, we shall." Donna settled back on the bench Oliver had made for them under a cluster of trees. „One more incident such as that and Tommy will be joining Speedy. My instincts tell me he won't be alone. In fact, I suspect that most of the children are going to spend more time watching Speedy's antics than they'll spend assisting the builders."

„Doubtless." Felicity looked around. „Where is the vicar?"

„Assembling nails for the slate." Donna pointed. „See? Alongside the building."

„And Miss Smith? I thought she'd be delighted to sit here with us."

„Miss Smith is evidently more delighted to stand by the school house and gaze worshipfully at your husband," Donna returned with a sideways look at Felicity.

Simultaneously, they dissolved into laughter.

A speeding carriage tore onto the scene, screeching to a halt beside the construction materials.

Felicity's laughter froze. „Oh my God." She seized her mother's hand, feeling it turn to ice.

„It's Malcolm." All the color drained from Donna's face, and she began to tremble uncontrollably. „What in the name of heaven is he doing here?"

„Dearden!"

Merlyn's voice erupted like a gunshot, splintering into sinister fragments all about them. He stalked Oliver in harsh, uncompromising strides, emitting a coiled, bone-chilling aura of triumph.

Slowly, Oliver turned. „Merlyn. What do you want?"

„Quite a bit." The marquis laughed. „Everything, in fact. My entire life … and yours."

„Get out." Instinctively, Oliver took a protective step in Felicity's direction as if to shield her from her father's presence. „Get out before I throw you out."

Unconcerned, Merlyn glanced in the direction of Oliver's movement. „Ah. My traitorous daughter and my adulterous wife. Your servants didn't mention I'd find them here as well. And where is the deceitful vicar? I assumed he would complete this cozy picture."

„Cease this tirade, Malcom." The vicar dropped the nails he'd been holding, coming to stand beside Oliver. „You've done enough damage to last a lifetime. Go back to Merlyn Manor."

„Ah, there you are, Lance. I feared you'd disappointed me. As for my going back to Merlyn Manor, I fully intend to. But when I do, it will be as a rich and powerful man." The marquis flourished his portfolio, a vicious gleam in his eye. „Or, if not rich and powerful, then at least thoroughly vindicated."

„You? Vindicated?" Oliver laughed harshly. „It is you who contaminates the rest of the world, Merlyn. Not the other way around."

„Is that why my wife is bedding down with the pious clergyman?"

Lance went rigid. „Don't soil Donna's name, you unworthy scoundrel. Not in my presence."

„How gallant!" Merlyn applauded. „It is no wonder Donna prefers your bed to mine. Tell me, Lance, are you sharing her room during your prolonged and intimate stay at Starling?"

„Don't dignify that vile accusation with an answer, Vicar." Oliver's eyes glittered with hatred.

„Your Grace?" the foreman called out tentatively. „Shall we wait?"

„It's not necessary, William," Oliver replied, his gaze glued to Merlyn. „The marquis will be leaving shortly. Start hoisting the beams. Miss Smith, watch the children."

„Of course, Your Grace," Miss Smith agreed, gathering the children together.

The sounds of construction resumed.

„All right, Merlyn," Oliver ground out. „You've spoken your filthy mind. Now get out."

„Not quite yet, Dearden." With cold deliberation, Merlyn extracted five or six sheets from his portfolio. „You see, despite the overwhelming presence of your burly guards, my investigator managed to acquire a significant amount of evidence at Rutland. Enough to prove there is more involved here than my filthy mind, as you put it. Pages of evidence, in fact." He turned to the vicar. „Would you like a recounting of each and every visit you made to see Donna these past two months? Of the long moments you and she were alone, unchaperoned, in the manor in which Dearden ensconced her? Just the two of you and those thoughtful, romantic yellow roses you brought her on your visits. Not to mention your unexpected and cozy carriage ride from Rutland to Starling, where you're residing under the same roof, doing lord knows what."

„We're talking, Malcolm. Something you are incapable of doing except with your fists." Lance could scarcely speak beyond his rage. „Not even your devious investigator can fabricate sins that never took place. And deep inside your black heart, you know very well that Donna is incapable of deceit. That so long as she bears your name, she would never be unfaithful to you."

„Ah, but she's in the process of ridding herself of my name, is she not? Or so Diggle told me when he dropped by Merlyn Manor to sever our association."

„Yes," Oliver bit out. „She is. And with just cause, as we both know. You brutalized her, you bastard, just as you brutalized my wife."

„I? A bastard?" Another bitter laugh. „I believe you're confused, Dearden. It is you who are the bastard, not I. You were born of a whore who was cast into the streets where she belonged. Had the fates been kind, she would have died there, with you still in her belly, rather than taking up taxpayers' money in that filthy Leicester workhouse."

Something inside Oliver snapped.

„You son of a bitch." His fist shot out, sending Merlyn reeling backward.

„Don't, Oliver." The vicar grabbed his sleeve. „That is precisely what he's goading you into doing. For whatever reason, he wants to appear the martyr." Lance indicated the gaping crew and children.

„You're wasting your breath, Lance." Regaining his balance, Merlyn dabbed at his nose with a handkerchief. „You can't stop him from fighting like an animal. It's in his blood; reinforced by years of living on the streets. Let him demonstrate the truth for all to see … that, title or not, he is and always will be a workhouse gutter rat. If Starling had possessed a whit of sense, he never would have acknowledged Moira Dearden's bastard urchin as his son."

„Shut up, Father." Unnoticed, Felicity had left the bench and now stood, eyes ablaze, beside the men.

For the first time, Merlyn looked taken aback. „Well, well, what has happened to my meek little Felicity?"

„She escaped your poisonous grasp," Felicity shot back. „And so did Mama. Now get away from my family and don't return."

Reflexively, Merlyn's hand balled into a fist.

„Do it and you're a dead man." Oliver's tone was lethally quiet. „And I don't give a damn if the entire House of Lords convenes to watch me choke the life out of you."

„You don't, do you?"

„No. I'm a gutter rat, remember?"

„Malcolm." Donna approached on shaking legs. „What is it you want? Why did you go to the trouble of hiring an investigator?" She glanced from Felicity to Oliver, her frightened gaze coming to rest on the vicar. „If my going back to Merlyn Manor is the necessary price to keep you from harming the people I love ..." Her voice broke. „Then so be it."

Merlyn threw back his head and laughed. „Don't flatter yourself, my dear. Your attributes are utterly replaceable. Frankly, I don't give a damn whose bed you share. I don't, of course, intend to say that either to the Church or to Parliament. What I will tell them is that I've been abandoned by my beloved wife, the woman I've cherished for more than a score of years. Think of their outrage when they read my documents and learn you've taken up with a lover from your past … and under the roof of a truly violent and devious man." Merlyn's lips curled. „How quickly they will award me my divorce. And how sad for you and for Felicity." He leveled his triumphant stare at Oliver. „Not only will I snuff out any chance Donna has of initiating this divorce, but I'll procure one on my terms, leaving Donna with nothing."

„Mama doesn't need your money," Felicity bit out.

„True. But does she need the vicar?" he returned smoothly. „Because she will never have him. You see, I quite agree with Lance. Donna is far too moral to bed down with a man who is not her husband. And remarriage will not be an option, not when I'm through." His smile was malevolent as he delivered his final blow directly to Oliver's soul. „And Felicity? Felicity will no longer be my daughter. In fact, the divorce will nullify her existence. And then, Dearden, your wife will be a bastard, just like you."

A vein throbbed in Oliver's temple. „How much?"

Merlyn's brows arched in mock surprise. „Dearden, are you implying that you're willing to negotiate with me?"

„I said, how much? You've had your fun. Now tell me what it is you really want. It isn't your wife. Nor is it your daughter. It's money. So how much will it take to convince you to abandon this sick scheme?"

All taunting vanished from the marquis's face. „I want every one of my notes, marked paid in full, placed in the palm of my hand, along with that outrageous agreement Diggle drew up, shredded into pieces. And then, I want a reasonable allowance, say, twenty thousand pounds a month, to ensure my cooperation and my permanent withdrawal from your lives."

„And what guarantee do I have that, once I've done as you asked, you won't proceed with your contemptible divorce suit?"

„I'll sign a document stating as such. Plus, I'll turn over all the reports my investigator provided me of Donna's meetings with Lance."

„What sort of fool do you take me for, Merlyn?" Oliver countered. „Your bloody henchman has copies."

„Indeed he does. I'll turn those over to you as well." Merlyn gave Oliver a contemptuous sneer. „You have no choice but to take me at my word, Dearden. It is true you run the risk of my reneging on my part of the agreement. But you also know that, given my incentive of twenty thousand pounds a month, that is highly unlikely. Conversely, what if you refuse my demands? Will you be able to endure the consequences? To live with yourself knowing it was you who'd condemned Felicity to the role of a bastard?"

Oliver's fists clenched and unclenched at his sides.

„How does it feel to be cornered, Dearden? To be locked in a cell for which only I hold the key, to be tormented as you once tormented me?"

The dam burst.

„You filthy scum." Lunging forward, Oliver grabbed Merlyn by the throat. „What do you know about prison and torment? I merely bled your money. You bled my soul. Mine and all the other children you terrorized and thrashed every chance you could."

„What children? What the hell are you babbling about?" Merlyn sputtered, struggling to free himself.

„The House of Eternal Hope. Remember? It was your thorough investigator who informed you of my roots. To you, it was a great revelation that the bastard who held all your notes was indeed a bastard, one who'd spent the first dozen years of his life in a workhouse. And not just any workhouse, mind you, but the one to which you'd paid so many lucrative visits. It never occurred to you that I'd remember you, did it? You assumed that you'd been as anonymous to me as I was to you. But you were wrong, Merlyn. Dead wrong. I remember you vividly … your beatings, your cruelty." Oliver's fingers dug into Merlyn's throat. „And, of course, your private meetings with Blood. The arrangement you thought was so cleverly covert. The money you pocketed in return for keeping that monster in office. I remember it all, you vicious lowlife. Every week I watched you and my father, the distinguished Duke of Starling, slip into Blood's office when you thought all the workhouse trash were in bed. Every week I eavesdropped as Blood handed you your money. And every week I vowed to make you pay for your cruelty."

Merlyn's eyes had widened, and he'd stopped struggling. „All this time you knew? So that's why you've stalked me as a predator stalks his prey." With renewed arrogance, he shoved Oliver's hand away. „I always thought my little exchange with Blood was most ingenious. The opportunity presented itself unexpectedly, to be sure, but all in all it evolved into a brilliant scheme. A surprising fact, given that Starling indirectly inspired it."

Oliver swallowed. „So I have my father to thank for Blood's continued reign as headmaster."

A crack of laughter. „Don't be stupid, Dearden. Starling wasn't devious enough to invent so splendid a plan. He was a weak man whose heart and conscience were in perpetual conflict with his head. What he proposed was a mere skeleton of my ultimate arrangement. He offered to pay me handsomely if I could devise a viable business venture that would necessitate his making frequent trips to the House of Eternal Hope. Presumably, his real motive was to grant a favor to an anonymous friend by secretly keeping an eye on his bastard son … a son I recently realized was Starling's. You." Merlyn shrugged. „I always suspected there had to be more to the story than what he told me, but, quite frankly, I didn't care. I did my part, inventing the idea of bleeding Blood, something I knew Starling's ethics would never permit … unless I were the one doing the bleeding. So I proposed doing just that. I would accompany Starling on all his visits and personally handle the whole sordid matter with Blood, thus providing Starling with the diversion he needed to verify the well-being of his friend's bastard son. That suited Starling fine. As long as his true purpose remained unrevealed, he didn't give a damn what Blood paid me, nor that I was collecting funds from two sources, himself and Blood. After all, Starling had more money than he could ever spend in a lifetime. So we all got what we wanted and no one was the wiser."

„Yes, you all got what you wanted," Oliver spat. „And in your case, that meant more than money, it meant blood. In between the visits you made with Starling, you made some of your own, for the pure pleasure of beating and taunting us."

„I put you in your wretched place where you belong," Merlyn snarled. „And when your father forgot his place, I did the same. In a more subtle manner, of course."

„What the hell does that mean?"

„Let's just say that when Starling's interest waned, I rekindled it by pointing out the benefits of our association."

Oliver's lips thinned into a grim line of enmity. „You blackmailed him."

„You must admit, I do it well." Merlyn's mocking words reminded him of the business at hand. „Enough," he pronounced, dismissing Oliver's upcoming question with a wave of his hand. „Our little reunion is at an end. Now, what is your answer? Will you meet my terms, or do I contact my barrister and begin divorce proceedings that will relegate your wife to the role of a bastard?"

„Don't, Oliver," Felicity said quietly, coming to stand by her husband's side. „He's inhuman enough when he's destitute. How many lives will he destroy with wealth and power behind him?"

Oliver drew a slow, inward breath, looked from the vicar to Donna to Felicity. „I'll contact Diggle as soon as I return home tonight."

„No!" Felicity grabbed his arm, shaking her head vehemently. „Don't do this. I'll feel less of a bastard if he denounces me than if he does not. I don't want him as a father."

Turning his head, Oliver stared down at his anguished wife. „I vowed to protect you. I intend to do just that."

„You also vowed to destroy my father."

An ironic light dawned in Oliver's eyes. „At the time, I didn't realize he'd already destroyed himself."

„I agree with Felicity," Donna abruptly concurred. She raised her chin, drawing strength from the vicar's loving nod. „Malcolm can't hurt me any more than he already has. But he can hurt others. Don't allow it, Oliver."

Contemplating Donna's heartfelt words, pondering the absolute selflessness demonstrated by both Felicity and her mother, Oliver felt a fierce, overwhelming surge of pride. „Take all my money, Merlyn. It matters not, for I'll still emerge the winner."

„What nonsense are you spouting?" Merlyn demanded. „Are you changing your mind? Are you refusing to ..."

„Sir?" Thea, who had slipped away, unspotted, tugged at Merlyn's coat. „Don't be angry." Her voice was a whisper of sound over the shouts of the adults and the pounding construction.

„What?" Merlyn jerked around, staring down at Thea as if she were filth.

„Don't shout," she murmured again. „Especially not at Felicity. She's a snowdrop." Her little face brightened. „You can hold my doll," she offered, extending her flaxen-haired treasure to him. „She'll make you feel better."

„How dare you approach me, you dirty urchin!" Merlyn bellowed, shoving Thea and the doll away. „Remove your vile plaything from my presence."

„You don't understand." Patiently, Thea repeated herself, again proffering her beloved toy. „She'll make you feel less angry. She makes my sister stop cryin' … and me, too. Take her."

With a roar of anger, Merlyn slapped the doll from Thea's hands, sending it tumbling, face down, in the dirt.

„My Felicity!" Thea shrieked, snatching it from the ground. Her eyes widened with fear as Merlyn bore down on her.

„This will teach you to disobey me!" he roared, slapping her so violently he propelled her backwards directly into the plow horses. Whinnying their protest, the horses reared, wrenching at their harnesses and stretching the connecting rope beyond its endurance.

Merlyn was oblivious to their frenzy. All he saw was the wretched child on whom he intended to vent all his pent-up rage.

His hand raised again.

„No!"

Felicity didn't realize she'd screamed. The world converged into one scene: her father striking Thea's doll, thrashing Thea, and it was twelve years ago again, at the House of Eternal Hope, and Thea was Sarah.

Back then, Felicity could do nothing.

Now, she could.

„Leave her alone!" Springing forward, Felicity snatched Thea in her arms, darting away from her father's impending assault.

The rope snapped.

„Look out!" a workman shouted.

It was too late.

The heavy wooden beam crashed down, smashing full force onto Meryn's head.

Silently, he crumpled.


	24. Chapter 23

**Chapter 23**

„I should mourn him. But I don't."

Felicity stared out over Starling's gardens, gripping the rail of the morning room balcony.

„No, sweetheart, you shouldn't." Oliver wrapped his arms about her from behind. "We only mourn those who are deserving. Merlyn was a monster. Death cannot alter that fact."

Turning into her husband's arms, Felicity closed her eyes. „I'll never forget how horribly he died," she whispered. „His skull crushed beneath that beam."

„No, you won't," Oliver agreed, grateful that he'd shielded Felicity from viewing her father's mangled body first hand. The memory of his gruesome death would dim that much faster with no hellish image to haunt her. „You won't forget," Oliver murmured again, pressing her closer, „but it's been just a week. With time, the pain of remembering will ease. Trust me. There are things I never dreamed I could recover from, and I have."

Felicity tilted back her head. „Father poured out horrid admissions to you that day, and yet, rather than becoming enraged, you seemed vindicated. As if all the anger were draining from within you."

„It was." Oliver threaded his fingers through Felicity's hair, a look of wonder in his eyes. „I never would have believed it myself. For years I've plotted, envisioning that final confrontation, the day I would reveal to Merlyn all that I knew while bringing the scoundrel to his knees. I mentally enacted the scene hundreds, perhaps thousands, of times. Had you asked me at that time, I would have sworn I'd die before conceding to his demands. But when that day of reckoning finally arrived, when I confronted my past head on, I suddenly discovered it no longer mattered. Because I now have something more powerful than hatred to live for. And that something is right here in my arms."

Felicity rose up to kiss him, her gaze filled with pride and love. „Your boundless courage never fails to astound me. Of all the magnificent deeds you've performed as Oliver Dearden and as the Green Arrow Bandit I think relinquishing your past is the most heroic." She laid her hand against his jaw. „Our babe might not yet realize it, but his father is an extraordinary man."

A shadow crossed Oliver's face.

„You're thinking of your own father," Felicity ventured.

„It's the only piece of the past I have yet to come to terms with, perhaps because I don't fully understand it," Oliver admitted quietly. „And after the things Merlyn said last week ..." Wearily, he rubbed his temples. „I don't know what to think."

„It did sound as if your father was perhaps not quite the monster you believed him to be," Felicity suggested.

„He turned his back on me, damn it!"

„That indicates weakness, not cruelty." Felicity clutched her husband's forearms, determined to complete his healing process, to offer him the peace he craved. „Oliver, you told me yourself the late duke seemed disinterested whenever he and Father met with Blood, that Starling spent most of his time wandering about the workhouse … 'merely looking,' were your exact words. My father's boast just before he died confirmed what you and I had already concluded. Starling's visits to the House of Eternal Hope were solely to assure himself of your well being. Compensation was certainly not a factor … not when he was losing money by paying Father to conduct the illegal dealings with Blood. Nor was cruelty a factor." Seeing Oliver's puzzled look, she added, „When you accused Father of thrashing the workhouse children, did you not contend that he'd returned to do so on occasions other than his weekly meetings with Blood?"

Slowly, Oliver nodded.

„Was the late duke present during those beatings?"

„No."

„So there's every reason to assume he knew nothing about them."

Felicity counted off on her fingers. „Consequently, it appears your father accepted no payments, struck no children, and had no active interest in keeping Blood in the headmaster's office. Nor was he aware of Blood's and Father's brutal treatment during his absence. He only wanted a reason to see his son. No, Oliver, that is not the behavior of an uncaring man. Only a vulnerable one."

„True." Oliver inhaled sharply. „Which brings to mind the one unanswered question that continues to plague me. Merlyn claimed he blackmailed Starling to keep him involved in the workhouse scheme."

„I remember." Felicity nodded thoughtfully. „Father said Starling lost interest, presumably when you ran away from the workhouse, and he found the means to rekindle that interest."

„Yes, but with what did he blackmail him? What threat did he use? Damn!" Oliver released Felicity and turned away, a tormented look in his eyes. „Over and over we continue to speculate. But that's all it is, speculation. I wish I knew what Starling had been thinking. Perhaps then I could find some peace."

„I believe I can help you on that score."

Both Oliver and Felicity turned to see Diggle standing in the doorway.

„Forgive me for intruding. And don't blame Langley. He did his job flawlessly, insisting that you were not yet receiving any visitors." The solicitor's lips curved into a grin. „But I've been sharpening my timing. I waited until Langley took one of his infrequent breaks, then showed myself in. And evidently, my timing is better than I realized." He strolled over, laying his portfolio on the desk. „I have a letter here that I believe will provide you with the peace you seek."

„You're not a visitor, Diggle. You're a friend," Oliver responded at once. „And you're always welcome in our home." His brows drew together. „A letter?"

Diggle extracted two envelopes, simultaneously inclining his head in Felicity's direction. „I'd like to express my sympathy on your father's untimely death."

„Thank you, but it isn't necessary." Felicity crossed the room, pouring two glasses of brandy and handing them to Oliver and Diggle. „We all know what kind of man Father was. I wouldn't wish so violent a death on anyone, but to feign mourning would be absurd. In truth, what I'm feeling is a combination of deep sadness and deep relief. Sadness at the ugly waste Father made of his life, and relief that Mama, and all the others who were subject to Father's cruelty, are finally free."

„You're an astonishing woman," Diggle replied admiringly. He stared into his drink, then raised his gaze to meet Felicity's. „I'll be blunt. What I have to show Oliver involves your father. If you'd prefer not to be present ..."

„No." Staunchly, Felicity went to her husband's side. „I'll stay."

Waiting only to see Oliver's nod of agreement, Diggle extended the first sealed envelope. „The late duke left specific instructions that I deliver this letter to you only upon and immediately following the death of Malcolm Merlyn."

With a start of surprise, Oliver set down his drink and accepted the envelope, tearing it open and smoothing out the handwritten sheets it contained. Then he sank down onto the settee, gesturing for Felicity to sit beside him. She complied, and together they read his father's words.

_My dear son Oliver:_

_You have no idea how long I've wanted to address you as such, to shout before the whole world that you … and your mother … are mine. But some realizations come too late, as it is only at the end of one's life that one can truly assess what is important and what is trivial. Apologies are meaningless, for no words can recapture what has already been lost, nor mend the pain too deeply inflicted in order to heal. Just know that I have suffered greatly by my own stupidity and weakness, for I denied myself a life with the woman I loved, as well as the chance to know the child we shared._

_How proud I am that you have inherited your mother's compassionate heart and strength of character, for your children will never know the agony of desertion I allowed you and Moira to bear._

_Enough empty regrets. The fact that you're reading this letter means that Merlyn is gone, and his threats can no longer harm us. Looking back, I realize what a fool I was to trust him. My only defense is that, in my colossal naiveté, I truly believed him to be a friend._

_Let me explain my imprudent actions from twenty-three years ago, in the hopes that you will comprehend, if not understand._

The letter went on to reiterate the details Merlyn had flaunted before he'd died: that Starling had approached him out of a desperate need to visit the workhouse and under the guise of overseeing a friend's child, that Merlyn had conjured up the idea of accompanying him in order to himself conduct illicit dealings with Blood, and that, once Oliver had escaped the confines of the House of Eternal Hope and Starling had wanted to extricate himself from the whole situation, Merlyn had refused to allow it.

Eagerly, Oliver turned the page, searching for the answers he so desperately craved.

_Merlyn didn't give a damn if I continued accompanying him to see Blood or not. All he wanted was my ongoing payments for his initial assistance and my ensured silence about his illegal activities. He revealed to Blood that I was considering backing out of our arrangement, embellishing on my notification by adding that I planned to report their unlawful transactions to the authorities … something I'd never threatened, nor even considered. Of course, Blood panicked, as Merlyn knew he would. The two of them confronted me, announcing that, should I refuse to agree to their demands, Merlyn would go to the House of Lords and disclose the entire scheme, except that he would proclaim me its perpetrator, while he and Blood, the shocked and innocent parties who had denounced my illegal dealings and now sought justice. Blood would, of course, support Merlyn's claim. With such weighted evidence, my family and my reputation would be destroyed._

_It wasn't worth the risk, Oliver. It was far easier to just pay Merlyn his cursed money and be done with it. And not only to protect my family name. You would also be in peril, should I refuse. You see, by now I understood the way Merlyn's mind worked. He wouldn't stop at condemning me before the House of Lords. If I refused to comply with his wishes, he'd dig into my past until he discovered my true reason for visiting the workhouse. And then, you'd be exposed to his blackmail … something I refused to permit. So I agreed to their terms, and started my private search for you all over again. Had I located you immediately, I assure you, you would not have spent those long years on the streets. I would have found a way to help you, no matter the cost. But by the time I unearthed your whereabouts, you were no longer a crafty pickpocket, but a shrewd young man, well on your way to success. The manner in which you assessed your investments, carefully and accurately selecting the lucrative ones and dismissing those that were unprofitable, reminded me a great deal of myself. You were a force to be reckoned with. You still are. Consequently, son, you didn't need my help._

_Nor did you need me._

_Ironic, isn't it, that it is now I who need you?_

At this point, Oliver raised his head, realization jolting through him like gunfire. „Diggle, the day you read me the addendum, I recall your saying my father had kept a perpetual, though discreet, eye on me after I'd left the workhouse and that he therefore knew of my keen mind and suitability to run his estates and businesses."

Diggle nodded. „And he did, as you can see for yourself. I also told you he planned to approach you personally, but his illness thwarted him. Read on, and you'll find that to be true, as well."

Oliver lowered his head and resumed.

_I can't give you back the years, Oliver. Nor can I bring back your beautiful mother and beg for her forgiveness because of my selfishness, weak man who cast her aside. All I can give you is the knowledge that I was a heartless fool, and that I deserved neither Moira, nor you by my side. Also know that I recognized these facts long ago, and that the reason to what kept me from riding to Wellingborough all this time and acknowledging you as mine was a shame. Not shame for you, but shame for myself and for my cowardice. You see, I hadn't the courage to face the hatred in your eyes when I told you who I was. And now, when I'm even willing to risk your enmity so that I might once stand before you and call you "son", I fear it's too late, for each day I grow weaker, less able to leave my bed. So heed my words, Oliver, lest I die before having the chance to say them aloud._

_You're an extraordinarily fine man, son. One who's survived the depths of hell and flourished, both in spite of it and because of it. Never doubt your worthiness, for if any man can call himself noble, it is you. Be armed with that knowledge, for I'm proud that my blood flows through your veins. And now, in the event that you are seeing this letter before your two-year term as the Duke of Starling is complete, read my final note to you, left in Diggle's capable hands. But remember, whether or not you choose to remain the Duke of Starling, you will always remain my rightful heir … an honor, indeed, not for you, but for me._

_With great affection, Your father, Robert Queen_

For an endless moment Oliver stared down at the pages, his fingers trembling as he folded them.

„Oliver?" Felicity touched his face. „Are you all right?"

„I've lived thirty years believing he didn't care enough to acknowledge me," Oliver replied in a choked voice. „Even after I'd heard the terms of the addendum, I assumed he'd only made those stipulations because he wasn't alive to be humiliated by heralding his bastard son."

„He was terrified you'd reject him," Felicity returned softly. „He was also terrified of my father's blackmail, not only for himself, but for you. The duke was protecting you, and in his way loving you. Those were the reasons he never came forward, not cruelty or disdain. My God, Oliver, surely you see how proud he was of you. It's evident in every word he's written."

„Yes. It is." A muscle worked in Oliver's jaw. „What final note is he referring to?"

„This one." Diggle proffered the second sealed envelope. „The day I revealed the terms of the addendum, you asked me if your father had made provisions in the event that you remained childless or produced a daughter rather than a son."

„I remember. You told me the duke had left a sealed envelope for me to open after the two-year period had passed."

Diggle nodded. „This is that envelope. It is your final communication from your father."

„But two years haven't elapsed."

„True. But Merlyn's death makes the waiting period unnecessary, as your father stipulated when he entrusted the letter to me." Silently, Diggle pressed the envelope into Oliver's palm. „Open it."

Dazedly, Oliver tore open the envelope. _Oliver,_ it began:

_If you're reading this letter, I must presume that either two years have passed since you've assumed your rightful title, or Merlyn is no longer alive to threaten your well being. Whichever is the case, I can at last rest in peace. With you at the helm, Starling has doubtless thrived, as have my businesses. Quite possibly, you have a child of your own now, and a wife who loves you as you deserve. For the sake of your happiness, I hope so. For the sake of the addendum's terms, however, it matters not._

_You see, son, the provisos I alluded to are fictitious. I invented their existence merely to satisfy your curiosity and to pique your interest enough to ensure you have accepted your title. Having observed you for years, albeit from afar, I know you well. And you loathe turning your back on two things: a challenge and an opportunity to aid the poor. By offering you the dukedom, I provided you with both. I did this for two reasons, only one of which was selfish … that being the hope that you would carry on the Starling title and the Queen family name. My other reason holds true whether you remain at Starling or resume life as Oliver Dearden. It is my fervent hope that, during this difficult time when you've been forced to assume a role you despise, you've discovered what I learned too late: that nobility is born in the heart and nourished in the mind._

_I pray this discovery grants you the peace you seek. Teach it to your children, Oliver, and the agony we've endured will be given purpose._

_All I have is unconditionally yours: my name, my fortune, my thanks._

_Father_

Oliver raised his head, his eyes damp with emotion. „He knew," he murmured incredulously. „He willed me his title knowing it was the very essence of all I loathed … because it was all I loathed."

„Loathed," Felicity repeated, emphasizing the past tense. „Oliver, think of what you told me not five minutes before Mr. Diggle arrived. You said that when your day of reckoning finally came, when you confronted your past head on, you suddenly discovered it no longer mattered, because you now have something more powerful than hatred to live for. Oh, Oliver, don't you see?" Felicity dashed tears of joy from her cheeks. „This is precisely what your father sought. He wanted you to find peace … and you have. What a miraculous gift he's given you."

„Indeed." Diggle smiled. „Now the question is, what will you do with this gift?"

Still dazed, Oliver inclined his head quizzically. „What do you mean?"

„Your title. Will you keep it, or renounce it?"

The issue hung precariously for a moment, dissipating, along with Oliver's confusion, in a blaze of discovery.

Capturing Felicity's hand, he smiled, a definitive gleam in his eye. „As my beautiful wife once said, there are all varieties of dukes. I will merely enhance that number by one."

With a grand sweep, Diggle seized his glass, raising it in solemn tribute. „To your father's gift, then. And to all the Dukes of Starling … past, present and future."


	25. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

„Your heir is just as inquisitive as his father," Felicity reported, leaning against the nursery wall and pointing to their son. „Even at six weeks of age."

The blonde-haired infant … named Robert Dearden in honor of both Oliver's parents … was a wondrous blend of Felicity and Oliver, boasting his father's features and his mother's blue eyes, eyes that, at the moment, were wide open and intently fixed on a patch of sunlight dancing along the wall.

„He's barely blinked all afternoon, lest he miss something." Felicity shook her head in amazement. „Not a motion or sound escapes his notice."

„He obviously possesses cunning," Oliver determined with a smug grin. „And instinct. We have only to supply the skill." He wrapped his arm about Felicity's waist. „Not that our daughter is lacking in either." He glanced at the second crib and its cooing, honey-haired occupant with an expression of intense satisfaction. „Mia is every bit as intelligent as her twin brother. She's radiant and precious, which is as it should be" Oliver's eyes twinkled with happiness.

„It is funny how Mia managed to steal from the big Green Arrow Bandit. Your heart is most definitely in her custody."

„Only a portion of it." Oliver caressed Felicity's cheek. „A portion belongs to Robert. As for the rest of it ..." he brushed his wife's lips tenderly, „the rest of my heart belongs exclusively and entirely to my twins' incomparable mother." Drawing Felicity closer, he deepened the kiss until he felt his wife's heated response. Then, abruptly, he ended it, his breathing ragged. „I miss you so bloody much, I'm going insane. Christ, how the hell long has it been?"

Felicity laughed, a whisper of sound against his lips. „Patience, my darling. Timing is everything." She tipped her head back to study Oliver's face. „Tell me the truth. Were you even a touch bothered when Mia made her entry into the world?"

„I was terrified." Oliver's jaw tightened. „You were so weak when that midwife threw me out." He shuddered. „Seeing you in pain and not being able to do a damned thing to ease it ..."

„Stop." Felicity pressed her fingers to his lips. "I'm perfectly fine now. Besides, that's not what I meant. I only wondered if you were disappointed when you thought your first … your only … child was a daughter and not a son."

Oliver blinked in astonishment. „Disappointed? Not for a second. I told you, Snow flame, indulging a daughter was as real a dream to me as siring a son." He threaded his fingers through Felicity's hair. „Still, I must admit, I was thrilled with the idea of acquiring a son and a daughter simultaneously. At least once I was convinced you were all right." He flashed her a cocky grin. „I did a remarkable job, didn't I?"

„You?"

„Very well, _we_. We produced two extraordinary infants."

„Proclaimed by their unbiased father." Felicity eased away, folding her arms. „So, what are today's gifts for the children?"

„What makes you think I bought them gifts?"

„Because you did yesterday and the day before and the day before that. And then last week ..."

„All right, you've made your point," Oliver chuckled, not a bit deterred by his wife's admonishment. „Very well, I spoil them. It is my right, after all. Two of those beautiful infants belong to us and one to Sarah and James. Who else should spoil them, if not I?"

„Quite a question. Now, let's see." Felicity tapped her chin thoughtfully. „The wetnurse practically lives in the nursery, when she's not arguing with Cook over whose turn it is to feed the babes. Langley rotates between two posts now, the front door and the nursery. Then there's Lily and Fryers, not to mention Mama and the vicar, who alternate between their wedding plans and their nursery visits. Need I go on?"

„There are quite a few people competing for our children's attention, aren't there?" Oliver concurred. He paused, considering his options. „Actually, Roberts's gift is too cumbersome to bring into the manor. He'll have to wait a bit to see it."

„I'm afraid to ask. What is this gift?"

„A splendid filly I've had my eye on for a fortnight … perfect for our son."

„Oliver, a horse? The child is a babe!"

„So is the filly. They'll be ready for each other soon enough."

„Lord." Felicity rolled her eyes.

„But the girls' gifts are quite transportable … and very special. Wait here." With a mysterious look, he slipped away.

Alone in the nursery, Felicity strolled about, stroking her infants' fuzzy heads and thanking God for all the love with which they'd been blessed. She paused beside the third crib, where little Alison slept. Born just two weeks before the twins, she had strengthened the ever-growing bond between Sarah and James, and made them precisely what Sarah had prayed for, a family.

„Felicity?" Sarah poked her head in, concern darkening her gaze when she saw where her friend was positioned. „Is there a problem with Alison?"

„No," Felicity reassured her. „In fact, your daughter seems to be the only one in this nursery who's cooperating. My two imps evidently never intend to sleep."

Sarah laughed aloud, the lonely and unhappy young woman she'd been forever gone. „Where's Oliver? Rarely is he away from the twins. Has he gone to inspect the new schoolhouse?" She raised teasing brows. „Miss Smith must be devastated at their prolonged separation."

„I'm sure she is," Felicity concurred good-humoredly. „Unfortunately, Miss Smith will have to accustom herself to seeing less of Oliver, especially now that the construction is complete. After all, her charms, potent though they are, are no match for these three babes here." Felicity gave a tolerant sigh. „No, Oliver has gone to collect today's purchases. He'll be back any moment."

On cue, the nursery door opened, then kicked shut.

„Oh, Sarah, good. You're here." Oliver's hands stayed firmly behind his back. „I have gifts to give our daughters, but they involve you and Felicity as well." Seeing their puzzled expressions, he explained, a wealth of emotion in his voice. „It's been more than a decade since your workhouse meeting … two young girls who were completely different and yet so very much alike. Little did you realize that one day you would spin the world separating you to become friends. Because of your courage, our daughters can begin their lives as equals, with none of the censure of the past. And now, to signify their new beginning…" Oliver brought both arms forward, each hand clutching an identical doll with golden hair, huge blue eyes, and a pink satin dress. „For Alison and Mia," he proclaimed, offering the dolls, both new and untainted, to their mothers. „In honor of the special women who gave them life."

„Presenting us with those dolls was a beautiful gesture," Felicity told Oliver that night in his bed-chamber.

She unbuttoned her robe, shaking out her hair and glancing sideways at her husband as he sat down to read the Times, his nightly ritual since the twins' birth had spawned his forced celibacy. Felicity bit back a smile, determinedly hiding the flush of excitement on her cheeks. „Most heroic. Thank you."

„My pleasure." Oliver frowned, purposely opening the pages of his newspaper to block Felicity and the revealing cut of her nightwear from view. „Tell me when you're abed. I can't bear watching you undress and knowing I can't have you."

„Very well." Nonchalantly, Felicity climbed beneath the bed covers and extinguished the light. „I'm abed."

„So I gathered."

„The room is pitch dark, Oliver. You can't possibly read."

„It doesn't matter." A pause. „Why the hell did you wear that revealing nightgown?"

Felicity propped herself on one elbow. „Because our endless wait is at an end."

„What did you say?" Oliver shot to his feet.

„Come to bed and I'll show you."

Oliver's body was already rigid. „Isn't it too soon?" Even as he asked, he was shedding his robe, crossing the room to the bed.

„No. It's been well over a month. I'm healed." Felicity reached for him, wrapping her arms about his neck.

„God, I've missed you, Snow flame." He buried his lips in the scented hollow of her throat.

„And I you." Shivering, Felicity gave herself up to her husband's magic. „Let's see if your instincts are as keen as ever," she whispered.

She felt the rumble of laughter vibrate through his chest. „Very well, Snow flame." He lifted his head, covered her mouth and her body with his. „And, should you deem it necessary, I promise to spend the entire night honing them to perfection."

Taking him by surprise, she laid her hand on his bulge. The traitorous thing leapt at her touch. He groaned as a purely feminine look of satisfaction covered her face.

Her fingers explored him, caressing intimately, stroking him with a surety that gave him pause even as he went hard as iron. Cursing under his breath, he caught her hand and shoved it away. Deuce take the teasing wench!

A slow smile touched her lips as she curved her hands around his waist and then had the audacity to slide both hands down to cup his buttocks. She squeezed, and he nearly erupted right there. His body was needy and hungry and ready to take her. He caught her in his arms, kissing her with all the desire that had built in him in the past 6 weeks. Her soft response, the way her body melted and her mouth opened beneath his, filled him with such possessive, damnable gladness that it frightened him. Good God, the taste of her… the scent of her, luscious and beguiling. Wildly he slipped his tongue inside her warm mouth, now almost mad to join himself with her. Her body undulated against his as fluidly as a cat's. He could almost imagine her purring as she twined her arms about his neck, threading her fingers through his hair to clutch him close. Then the clock struck midnight, startling them both.

Tearing his mouth from hers, he glanced at the clock, then around the room at his somber study. She touched her finger to his mouth, tracing the outline of his lips with a sensual gesture that made lust rage through his body. He caught her finger in his teeth, sucking on it until a sigh escaped her lips. When he released it, he was harder than before, if that were possible.

„Lets get rid of this, shall we?" With one strong move he ripped her nightgown and help her discard it in a flash. She felt the cloth parting, exposing her body to the chilly air. She shivered, partly from the cold, partly from the excitement.

Like a fiery torch, his gaze drifted down her naked body.

Then she was in his arms and his mouth was on hers, making her forget everything but him. He tasted so good, the heat of his lips driving out the chill of her body.

„Mine," he whispered in a guttural tone, like a starving man marking his possession of the single loaf of bread fallen from the baker's wagon. „All mine." And his dark, probing kiss was a blatant repetition of the word.

As his mouth mated with hers, her hands touched the warm skin of his chest. It was so different from hers, the muscles beneath it taut and firm. They bunched into fine ropes beneath her touch.

He groaned, tearing his lips away.

She reached for him, but he swept her hands aside. „I want to look at you. Let me look at you."

„You are exquisite," he said in a voice hoarse with need.

His gaze was hot on hers as he caught her hands, pinning them on either side of her head.

Her arousals increasing when he lowered his head to her breasts. Until his mouth closed over her nipple and his tongue swept it in a caress as thrilling as it was gentle.

She went limp beneath him. Oh, dear heaven.

Everywhere his mouth touched there was heat, excitement. And his mouth was everywhere… sucking each breast until she arched beneath him, then trailing down to taste her navel. His evenings growth of whiskers rasped against her skin, but that, too, was a seduction, reminding her that he was a man and she was very, very much a woman.

Their fingers were entwined now as he marked a path of kisses along her lower belly with skilled lips and tongue. He made her acutely aware of her body, treating each hollow and slope and indentation to lavish caresses that made her squirm and sigh. Then he started pressing a kiss into the thatch of hair between her legs. She nearly shot up off the bed. He released her hands so he could part her curls and bare the soft folds of her flesh for a second, more intimate kiss.

He caressed her with his mouth again, this time lingering over her until it felt as if a spring were twisting inside her, tighter and tighter with every touch of his tongue to her too sensitive skin. She grabbed fistfuls of green coverlet to keep from clasping him to her and showing him just how wicked she was.

But she couldn‟t keep the small cries of pleasure from escaping her lips. „Yes… oh, goodness gracious… Oliver…Oliver …"

„Do you like that? Does it please you, my darling Felicity? Or shall I stop?"

„No!" Her hips moved toward his mouth of their own accord. „Please …. Oliver … please ..."

He didn't stop. His tongue was inside her, stroking her… tightening the spring until she could almost not bear it anymore. So much tension… it was too much…

Then suddenly it snapped, spinning outward to shoot pleasure through every limb and vein and muscle. It tore an animal cry from her as her body arched up off the bed, then collapsed in a great shudder of release.

When she could think again, she found him watching her with a grin of pure male satisfaction.

She was smiling, too, and couldn't seem to stop.

Every part of her body felt soft and languid and delicious.

„I will „do", will I?" he growled as he moved back up over her, planting his hands on either side of her shoulders. Sweat plastered his forehead, and his face wore a look of raw desire. „Now we shall see if _you _will do, my darling."

Her pleasurable languor vanished as she felt his member probing between her legs until it found the entrance and inched inside.

„Good God, you are so tight…" he murmured as he slid deeper, his eyes closing in obvious satisfaction.

Desperately, she clutched at his hips, anchoring him to her.

„I want you, Oliver. I want you… so badly… please…"

„Then hold on, my darling."

Her only answer was to lean up and kiss him squarely on the lips. With a groan, he kissed her back, driving his tongue deep into her mouth as he began moving inside her again.

A sweet tension swelled inside her loins, like the one she had felt when his mouth had caressed her. As it grew, a restless need to swivel her hips against him overcame her.

When she did, he tore his lips from hers with a gasp. „Good God, Felicity… You are… amazing…"

„So are you." Amazing and wonderful. The feel of him inside her, driving into her, possessing her, was so incredible.

His gaze burned into her, possessive, fierce. „You _are _mine," he rasped. „Mine. All mine."

„Yes." She would always be his.

She clasped him to her, loving the feel of his slick skin, the faint, musky scent that clung to him, the unbelievable pleasure of his body fused to hers.

Giving up her body to his hot thrusts, reveling in the way they sent her reeling into a mindless dream.

„My Felicity," he whispered as he drove into her with an almost frantic pace. „Yes… yes, Felicity…"

Then he plunged into her so deeply, she thought he had reached the very center of her soul. And at that moment, the tension broke inside her with a burst of light and unbearable release. She was still arched against him, her fingers digging into his back, when he cried out her name and spilled himself inside her.

For a moment, the world ceased to exist. There were only the two of them joined together, suspended in sweet intimacy.

Then he collapsed on top of her and buried his face in her slender neck, marveling at the softness and delicate fineness of her skin.

Long, delicious hours later, Oliver cradled his slumbering wife in his arms and settled both of them amid the disheveled bed covers. He was utterly exhausted yet too exhilarated to sleep, inundated by a happiness he'd never in his life anticipated. His heart and soul were at peace, his body sated from a nightlong reunion with Felicity. He was also a father, and his beloved children were asleep down the hall in their beds.

At long last Oliver Dearden had a home.

Raising his eyes, he gave silent thanks to the heavens, vowing never again to doubt what he now knew to be true.

Prayers could indeed be answered.

Shifting a bit, Oliver spied the copy of the Times he'd cast to the floor the instant Felicity had offered him the paradise he'd been denied for six weeks. Still wide awake, he reached for it, angling the newspaper toward the window and the illuminating glow of the moonlight.

An article on the front page caught his eye:

_Lord Slade Wilson returned from his three-month journey to India yesterday, bringing with him what he claims to be the largest, most perfect pair of diamonds ever to grace English soil._

„Neither stone possesses either a flaw or a chip," Felicity read aloud over her husband's shoulder. „Fascinating."

Oliver's head snapped around. „I thought you were asleep."

„I thought you weren't interested in reading."

„I wasn't. But now that I've exhausted you, I am."

„Hmm. I see." Naked, Felicity rose, slipping thoughtfully into her robe. „Lord Wilson. Are you acquainted with him?"

„No. Are you?"

„Oh, yes. He was a friend of my father's. One of his best informants, in fact. Every time I visited the vicar, Lord Wilson spotted me, and took great pleasure in reporting my indiscretions to … Father."

„Did he?" Oliver inclined his head, watching Felicity from beneath hooded lids.

„Both diamonds are large and flawless … the article does specify that, does it not?" she asked, tapping her chin.

„It does."

„I wonder what their total value is."

„Lord knows. Probably tens of thousands of pounds."

Felicity's expression was the picture of innocence. „It is hard to envision the number of children that could feed."

„Countless."

„Such a pity." Felicity sighed. „Lord Wilson is a greedy and unfeeling man. He'll probably squander the funds at White's or have the diamonds made into rings for his garish, coldhearted wife."

„I fear you're right," Oliver agreed, his eyes beginning to twinkle.

Crossing over to the double chest, Felicity eased open the drawer housing Oliver's cravats. She reached to the back, groping about until she extracted the glittering sapphire they'd secreted there for safekeeping. „Do you think the diamonds could be larger than this?" she asked, fingering the stone.

„Definitely. Several times larger, if they're half as grand as Wilson boasts."

„Perhaps we should make sure … examine them at close range."

„A splendid idea." Oliver climbed out of bed and strolled over to his wife. „Do you know, I just realized I have yet to initiate that handsome green cloak you gave me for Christmas."

„True. And I have yet to accustom my husband to seeing the mother of his children adorned by a mask."

„Just this once," Oliver qualified in a dark whisper.

„Just this once," Felicity concurred, the essence of sincerity.

Their gazes locked.

And the Green Arrow Bandit smiled.

**AN: With this chapter the story of Duke of Starling concludes. I have a new story in works that will be called The Green Diamond. Hope you checked it out.**


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